Crimson and Clover
by Janis 70
Summary: (AU) Some call it 'love at first sight', others call it, 'destiny'. As quickly as they met, they got married. Trying to live a 'happily-ever-after', Buffy and Dean omitted one important detail before taking their vows… One was a Slayer and the other a Hunter. Can their marriage last despite its foundation of love and deceit? Will they ever tell each other about their secret lives?
1. Chapter 1

_Fair warning: I've jacked up timelines (mostly Supernatural's timeline) in order to coincide with Buffy's timeline._

* * *

 **2005**

 **Cleveland, Ohio**

Sprinting down a narrow back alley in the early hours of the night, a young man in his early twenties glanced back over his shoulder to see two dark figures running after him. The man threw down the stacked wooden crates against the brick wall in hopes it would slow the figures down.

The man continued down the alley when he eventually found a tight right turn leading into another alley.

As he reached the end of the alley, the man realized there was no place left to go. He turned wildly searching for an escape route. Noticing a tall fence, the man climbed up crates and dumpster to try and climb out before the figures caught him.

"Down this way!" One of the figures said from afar.

The man climbed faster to the top of the fence then jumps down on the other side just as the figures came into view. Quietly, the man continued to run before the figures also discovered the fence.

"Dean, look," Dean followed his brother, Sam's finger pointing at a tall fence.

Dean's expression glowered with dismay, "Shit, he escaped. C'mon," he led the way to the fence and proceeded to climb just as the man had.

* * *

The man sprinted as fast as he could when he heard chatter and pounding dance music at the other end of the alleyway.

He stalled his sprinting pace when a dance club was in view which was filled with young people standing in outside the popular club waiting to get in.

The man started to pick up speed again when a petite blonde woman stepped out from the darkness. The man tripped over himself as he tried to avoid running into the woman.

"Hey, are you okay?" The woman asked looking down at the man, watching him stand up to his feet.

"Help me, _please_! Call the police!"

The woman's sincere expression softened with concern, "Slow down, what's going on?"

"There's no time for explaining!" Releasing a breath, realizing the woman was not going to budge, the man shook his head. "I'm being chased."

"Oh?" The woman glanced into the darkness to see no one there. Her eyes went back to the man. "By who? There's no one there."

The man looked at the woman disbelief and opened his mouth to reply, "I'm being chased, lady. _Help me_." His words contained frustration and anger.

"Hm," the woman looked at him thoughtfully and said, "you're not being chased because you're a vampire, right?"

The man stared at her with disbelief and just like that, his entire innocent demeanour fell away and his human disguise shifted into his true features.

"You know what gave it away?" The woman asked.

The vampire snarled flashing his yellow fangs.

The woman pulled a stake from the side of her jacket smirked, "The _entire thing_. You were playing too much with the distress and not enough with the damsel."

" _Slayer,_ " The vampire growled and lunged at the Slayer.

Easily defending herself, the woman caught the vampire and tossed him forcibly into the brick wall then drive the sharp point of her stake into the vampire's heart.

She brushed her hand over the dusty particles of the combusted vampire off of her leather coat.

"Buffy!" Buffy turned her eyes towards the person across the street calling her name. "Are you coming?"

"I'll be right there, Wills!" Buffy replied back as the stomps of steel-toed boots turned her attention down the dark alleyway. Not wanting to waste any more time, Buffy tucked the stake back into her coat and made it across the street getting lost into the crowds just as Dean and Sam appeared from the end of the alley.

"Where the hell did it go?" Dean asked with a frown of annoyance.

"Maybe it went to get a beer." Sam nodded towards the nightclub.

With a grand smile instantly liking this new change of pace, Dean slapped his hand across Sam's back and said happily, "Don't mind if we do."

Dean led the way across the street and into the nightclub called _the Garage._ The brothers easily bypassed the bouncer.

 **The Garage**

Dim yellow spotlights scattered across the industrial piped ceiling was the clubs only source of lighting. Unsuspecting young people swayed back and forth on the large dance floor as the band played on stage.

Dean nodded over his shoulder at his brother to follow him through the thick crowds of people to the bar. As they weaved around the masses, Dean noted a pool table surrounded by a bunch of meatheads and mentally noted to steal all the money they had just won by the end of the night.

Finally reaching the bar, Dean leaned against the counter on his elbow and looked out to the crowd with a smile, "This place is hopping!"

"Yeah, it's something," Sam muttered, none too thrilled to be in the club.

"Oh, c'mon, _Samantha_ don't be like that," Dean teased his younger brother and eyed the beautiful women giving him a flirtatious smile as they passed him. "Yeah, I like it here."

Sam shook his head reading his brother's thoughts, which was not very hard since it was pretty one-tracked. "We don't have time for your libido, Dean."

Dean waved him off as his smile grew to spot a motorcycle looking brunette on the dance floor with her arms up over her head and three men surrounding her. "Nonsense," Dean sipped the beer placed in front of him by the bartender.

On the stage, a lanky petite woman with short jet black hair turned from the organ player to the crowd. She wrapped her hand around the microphone and smirked eyeing her audience.

 _"_ _I lost my heart,_

 _Under the bridge,_

 _To that little girl,_

 _So much to me,"_

The heavy base notes of the organ rattled through the speakers behind the singer's voice. As the song progressed, elements of percussion instruments began to drizzle colour into the song just as string instruments gave the song gothic tension.

Dean's eyes wandered from the attractive brunette still dancing with the strange men to a blonde appearing under the spotlight. His eyes ran over her slender, petite body.

Dean hit the back of his hand against Sam's chest. Her tight black jeans she wore hugged her legs perfectly. Her sun-kissed skin complemented by the lacy cream coloured tank-top blouse. A strange feeling washed over Dean as he watched the blonde sway her hips to the melodic beat, hypnotizing him where he stood.

 _"_ _That blue-eyed girl (that blue-eyed girl),_

 _She said, 'no more' (she said, 'no more),_

 _That blue-eyed girl (that blue-eyed girl),_

 _Became a blue-eyed whore ('came a blue-eyed whore),"_

His eyes followed up the length of her torso to her raised arms that were above her head. The brunette woman stepped around the men dancing around her to the blonde. She bent forward and whispered something int the blonde's ear to make her smile.

Dean ran a hand over his face never having felt this intense pounding of his heart from just a flash of a smile which was in no way directed at him.

"Dude," Dean shook out from his trance hearing his brother's nagging voice.

" _What_?" Dean hadn't tried to conceal his annoyance as Sam was distracting him away from the beautiful blonde on the dance floor.

A growing smile tugged at Sam's lips, "You're drooling."

Rolling his eyes, Dean drew his attention back to the dance floor. His smirk fell when he did not see the beautiful blonde anymore. He tried to peer over heads but he did not see her. _Shit._ Dean's frown sank further down his face.

"Hi." A breathless yet perky voice made Dean's ears twitch. "I can I get another round for my table, please?"

Dean froze and turned his wide eyes upward to Sam's face. Silently and poorly, Dean tried to get Sam's attention to look behind him to see if that beautiful blonde was standing there.

Sam's face scrunched with confusion, "Huh, what?"

"Is she standing there?" Dean tried to whisper a bit louder.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Goddamn it," Dean shook his head with frustration and turned to his other side to see the woman in question standing at the counter waiting patiently of the bartender to fill the tray up with drinks.

Slowly and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Dean leant forward getting a whiff of her floral perfume which sent a strange shiver down his spine. _Holy shit, she's hot._ He pushed the feeling and smugly smiled at the blonde. "Hey,"

Buffy frowned realizing the man beside her was talking to her. The last thing she wanted for the night was to be hit on by some horny-drunken-man-slut. Buffy lifted her green eyes to the man's face and felt her breath catch in her throat. _Okay, he's a super attractive-horny-doesn't look drunk-but he's totally a man-slut._

"Uh, hi," Buffy heard herself say much to her own dismay. _So much for not talking him…_

"I'm Dean," he said. "You're a really good dancer," Dean ran his eyes over her and found her even more gorgeous up close than half a room away.

 _Is he for real?_ Buffy faced him fully with a thoughtful expression on her face. For the first time since he turned to her, Buffy ran her eyes over him, getting a good look at this impossible flirt. He was tall, but not as tall as the cute man behind him. His hair was short, blondish-brown and his eyes were a sharp green; which she could get lost for days in. From his close proximity from her, Buffy could tell he was muscular despite the layered, Seattle-grunge clothing covering his lean body.

Buffy lifted her eyes back to his face watching his smug smile widen. He knew exactly what she was doing, it was giving him a good once-over, just as he had done with her.

She tilted her head to the side, letting her wavy blonde hair fall over one side of her shoulder. Dean watched her lips gently part wondering if she knew just how sexy she was. But he had an inkling feeling that this was all unconsciously done, which only made his jeans tighter.

"Do you really think that's the thing to say to win me over?" She asked.

Intrigued by her 'lack' of interest, Dean found himself leaning closer to her and said, "You haven't thrown that drink in my face yet, have you, Princess?" He nodded towards the girly Cosmo drink on a tray.

"I'm still thinking about it." A sly smile crossed her heart-shaped lips.

A mischievous gleam in his eyes brightened instantly wanting more than just a wild night of sex with this woman. He strangely wanted something else, sex, sure, but something he hadn't wanted from a woman in, well, Dean couldn't remember the last time he wanted this—if he ever wanted that before; a connection.

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

"I'm with my friends," Buffy looked back at the brunette and a redhead sitting at a table in the club watching her with wild smiles across their faces.

Leaning into her ear, Dean whispered, "From the look on their faces, I don't think they'll mind if you get a bite with me."

Buffy bit back her own smile and craned her neck back to look at him. "You're very presumptuous —and obnoxious."

"You don't even know me," Dean smirked.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, almost accusingly, "I think maybe I do."

"You think too much. All I'm asking for is a burger and fries from that diner across the street. What'd you say?"

Taking a thoughtful pause to herself, though Buffy already had her decision made, she let him sweat it out for a moment before a sweet smile crosses her lips.

 **Tom's 24/hr Diner**

A waitress walked out from the double doors from the kitchen area and eyed a young man and woman sitting on the track of booths.

The couple sat across from one another not saying a word, only staring at each other with thoughtful and peculiar expressions on their face. The man sat back in the booth, tilting his chin upwards never letting his eyes tear away from the beautiful woman he was with.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him raised a manicured brow. A cheeky half-smile tugged at her lips.

Meanwhile, the waitress stood at the counter bar watching the pair strangely.

"Maggie, what's with those two?" An older waitress named Dolly stood behind Maggie, also watching the odd pair.

"I have no idea. They've been here for ten minutes and they haven't uttered a _word_ to each other."

Dolly smiled and turned away to the coffee machine, "Young love."

Maggie shrugged unsure if she should break up their staredown but it was almost time to close and she really wanted to get out of here at a decent time.

Crossing the slow-moving Diner, Maggie stood at the table holding a pad in her hand. "Are you guys ready to order?" She asked.

Buffy broke her eyes away from Dean and looked up at Maggie with a polite smile on her face. "Um, sure…" she looked at Dean, "What do you want?"

"You order," Dean watched her intently. He tilted his head to the side giving her his own sort of 'test'. He wanted to know what kind of girl she was. A salad girl or A burger, fries, and a chocolate shake kind of girl. To Dean, both versions of this 'kind of girl' were very, very different. Depending on her menu order could determine his entire outlook on this hot blonde from the club.

"O—kay," Buffy quickly scanned the menu realizing that she was not quite that hungry despite the slayage from earlier in the evening. "Can we get a... slice of your apple-pie?"

Dean felt his heart stop abruptly beating in his chest. _Oh, shit,_ Dean swallowed no longer hearing the exchange between Buffy and the waitress. He hadn't prepared himself for _that_ kind of girl.

His eyes were on Buffy the entire time when a strange unheard of thought entered his mind which suddenly made him sweat profusely. _Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!_

 ** _Song Used: "Down by the Water" by PJ Harvey 1995_**


	2. Chapter 2

**2010 (5 Years Later)**

 **Cleveland, Ohio**

 **Winchester Residence**

Pulling the Impala into the driveway, Dean turned the key in the ignition off and sat back in the driver's seat releasing a deep breath. The case in Wisconsin had definitely done a number on him emotionally and physically. _Ugh, shit, I hurt like hell._ The shape-shifter had seriously bruised his entire body and might have even cracked a rib or least bruised it.

He spent eight and a half hours trying to come up with some reasonable excuse for why he was walking strangely or why he didn't want any nooky. Some excuse he hadn't used before but as the years went on it was getting harder and harder to keep lying to his wife.

Dean got out of the car and went to the trunk to take out his duffle bag. He winced, gritting his teeth when he lifted his arm a bit too high. "Sonofvabitch," Dean cursed.

He closed the truck and started for his home when the next door neighbour Jeff Parkins approached him.

"Oh, Dean! It's great that you're back!"

 _Fuck me._ Dean plastered forced a smile on his face though inside he really wanted to kick the smug look off of this sweater-vest wearing dick-weed. "Isn't it?" Dean cleared his throat feeling his fingers twitch for the gun in the left pocket of his duffle bag.

"It sure is! You missed _another_ neighbourhood watch meeting!"

Shaking his head not even pretending to give a damn, Dean muttered, "Bummer."

"We don't take this lightly Dean-o," Jeff leaned forward towards Dean and whispered, "there has been a lot of strange and _very_ suspicious activity happening in this very neighbourhood… _if_ you know what I mean?"

"I'm reading between the lines." Dean didn't bother hiding the sarcasm from his words.

Jeff nodded not catching onto Dean's polite hostility, "You should talk to your wife, she's been an active participant in the nightly watch brigade."

Dean frowned and glanced towards the house wondering just why his wife would be into the local neighbourhood night watch brigade. She has never shown an interest in community activities before unless it somehow involved shopping or a function at the private school she ran.

 _What is she up to?_ Dean wondered and started for the house completely forgetting about Jeff.

"So you'll talk to her?" Jeff yelled.

Dean grumbled a response and waved off his neighbour as he entered the house.

* * *

Setting the duffle bag down at his feet, Dean glanced into the living room noticing the television was turned off.

The soft sounds of the radio in the kitchen drew his attention. He smirked and followed the song when he paused in the doorway. Dean leaned back against the open door frame watching the woman standing at the sink with her back facing him swaying to the slow rock melody.

 _"_ _Yeah, if I'm not such a sweet thing,_

 _I wanna do everything,"_

Dean's eyes locked with her hips amazed at how unconsciously sexy she was.

 _"_ _What a beautiful feelin',_

 _Crimson and clover,_

 _Over and over,"_

Unable to stand by as a spectator a moment longer and ignoring the stabbing-like pain shooting through his body, Dean crossed the kitchen to stand behind his gorgeous wife of five years.

He pushed her long blonde softly curled hair off of her shoulder and dipped his head down, brushing his lips against the side of her neck.

"You're back," Buffy's smile widened as Dean kissed her neck.

"Mm-hm…" Dean mumbled still kissing her neck and letting his hands wrap around her waist feeling her slender curves under his fingers. "I missed you," he muttered, biting her earlobe and breathed in her familiar and intoxicating scent.

Buffy laid her head back against his chest and felt him shutter behind her, "Are you okay?" Buffy turned off the faucet and faced her husband. Her hand went to his cheek examining him closely.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sore from driving that's all…" Dean hated how easy it was lying to her. The one person he never wanted to lie to was always the victim of his secret life. When he proposed to her, he basically offered a lifetime of lies and secrets, except, she didn't know he was lying and keeping secrets. But he loved her too damn much to come clean about his actual whereabouts, afraid he'd ruin everything he's built thus far with Buffy. "The man I was arresting, uh, wasn't very happy he was being arrested."

On one of their first dates, Dean had created an occupation identity which his entire family and friends followed in suit was that he was a private investigator with Sam under his late father's company. It was an identity cover that was an easy disguise for frequent out of state trips doing what he really was, a demon hunter. Luckily for him, Buffy never asked too many questions. But Dean knew his wife very well and when she's laying on the 'dumb-blonde' routine thick, Buffy really knew a lot more than he was excepting. Fortunately, his demon hunting life had never crossed her suspicions.

"Was Sam not with you?"

Dean inwardly winced and said, "He was, uh, preoccupied." _With the second shape-shifter that attacked us._ Dean hated himself for the constant lying and the worry in her eyes. He held his hand against her cheek and brushed his lips over hers. "I'm fine. Sammy's fine. The bad guy is in jail… All is well."

Releasing a heavy breath, Buffy nodded and lifted her eyes to his, "Okay." Dean felt a weight of relief that she was going to stop with the questionnaire. "You hungry?"

"Is that even a question?" Dean teased getting her to smile widely.

He sat back on the counter island and watched his love move around the kitchen and poured the pasta from the stove into a strainer placed in the sink.

Rubbing a hand over his tired face, Dean went to the cabinet to take out two plates. He placed them on the counter island then went into the refrigerator for a beer. He tossed the little bottle cap into the trash and disappeared into the dining room.

A minute later, Dean returned to the kitchen holding a glass of red wine. He slid the glass across the counter towards Buffy as she scooped red sauced pasta onto a plate.

Together they sat in silence taking the first bites of pasta. Dean lifted his eyes to her face and watched as she studied the red wine for a moment then sipped it.

"How was it here?" Dean asked breaking the silence in the room.

With a shrug, Buffy replied, "It was inactive to the active capacity."

Dean looked at her strangely. Her play with words had always spun his head on his shoulders. Half the time he didn't understand a word she said unless he sat long enough to piece it all together. But her odd wordplay was one of the many, many traits he loved so much about his girl.

"And the Academy? Any good parent-teacher stories?"

Buffy thought over the events in the last month; with the sudden uptick in vampire and demon activity. She had to distribute teams of five Slayers all across the state. She gave the order to the witches and warlocks under Willow's supervision to create a protective border around the Hellmouth's seal for as long as possible. The rise of vampire and demon gangs only hinted towards one thing; something terrible was going to happen.

"Not really," Buffy kept her eyes firmly on her food not wanting Dean to realize that she was lying. He was very good at reading her, he'd know in an instant that she was hiding something from him. It was easier to squish the conversation before it ever got any further, unlike her, Dean asked a lot of questions.

Dean released a heavy breath which only hurt his cracked rib. He winced but swallowed his pain with another swig of beer.

* * *

Sitting against the headboard of the bed, Dean watched Buffy step out of the bathroom wearing only his flannel shirt which swallowed her petite frame. He smirked watching her roll up the sleeves that covered her fingers.

He crossed his arms and admired his mini floor show. Honestly, Dean could just watch her move around the room all day long if he could. _Shit, she makes folding laundry sexy as hell._ Dean ran his eyes over her bare tanned legs.

Her hair was in a messy bun which she had pulled back to wash her face. Her perfectly sun-kissed skin smelled like lavender.

 _Hot damn, my wife is fucking hot._ Dean smirked proudly of himself for snagging such a beautiful woman. She could have easily have had any man on the planet but she chose him and that's why Dean was determined to make his marriage last forever and ever, just like the vows suggest.

"Jeff talked to me today—"

"—Uh-oh," Buffy said as she closed the door of the closet.

Dean frowned, "Why do you say, uh-oh?"

"Only because you can't stand him. Which is dumb because he's sweet and thoughtful," Buffy said, laying her freshly pressed dress pants aside near the blouse she'll wear tomorrow morning.

"He's only 'sweet and thoughtful' because you're fucking hot and—" Dean paused with a frown, "When was Jeff Parkins thoughtful?" His eyes went to her accusingly.

Buffy smirked, "He stopped by a few times to make sure I was doing okay while you were gone. He does that."

Dean frown deepened, "You mean, this… him checking up on you wasn't the first time?"

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No. It's a sweet and thoughtful gesture—"

"—How many times?" Dean interrupted.

"A few," Buffy replied.

Dean comically narrowed his eyes on Buffy, "'A few' is a lot. How long has this been going on?" He pursed his lips together.

Releasing a breath, the last thing she wanted to do was argue with Dean, especially when he just returned from his month-long trip. "We've been married for what? Five years? And four of those five years we've lived in this neighbourhood."

"That's a _long_ ass time," Dean grumbled hating the overly nice neighbour in the house to the right of them.

"Dean, it's nothing to get jealous over." She tried to reassure him.

"I am not jealous," Dean told her pointedly. "That preppy asshole could never make me jealous."

Buffy let out a sarcastic laugh with an eye-roll, "Right."

"I'm _never_ jealous." He sounded almost too confident in his straight up lie.

With a widening smile, Buffy went over to him and sat on the edge of the bed, "Then why is there invisible steam blowing out from your ears?"

His lack of response only proved his jealousy.

"My point exactly," Buffy pressed her mouth against his lovingly.

Dean's jealousy was not because he feared Buffy looking at other men. No, his jealousy was that Dean hated _every_ man that _looked_ at _his wife_. In reality, he knew not one of them would ever get within drooling distance of his girl but it didn't mean, he didn't hate their wandering eyes.

There weren't many things Dean could call his own. His car, his jacket, the music he listened to, his favourite gun were all his father's. All Dean ever wanted was something all to himself, which included everything about his wife, especially her beauty. He wanted all of her; her eyes, smile, laugh, hands, toes, heart—everything. Dean was also very well aware of how irrational his jealous reasoning was because his wife was the devoted loyal type. She has never gone into something half-way. As she described herself one time, Buffy was an 'all-in' kind of girl. Which worked out perfectly for Dean because he was an 'all-in' kind of guy. Since the moment he met, Buffy Summers, Dean wanted that, 'apple-pie' life he feared for so long.

Mister and Missus Winchester could be described as a classic case of 'opposite attraction'. Dean was a beer drinking, mischievous, some might say immature personality, who loves classic rock music and crude humour. In contrast to her husband, Buffy had always been more of a straight-edge, sarcastic, and the matriarch of her marriage. She is the down-to-earth and definite realist, unlike Dean. Consistently, Buffy has always been the first to recognize disadvantages and weigh them appropriately; a trait Dean appreciated because it was an amazing and incredibly rare trait to possess.

But where they 'yin' they 'yang'; They are known to be the two most hard-headed people on the planet, according to their family and friends. Fighting with each other was nearly impossible because neither would ever admit defeat. In the heat of their arguments, they were both ruthless and aggressive; unafraid to hit below the belt. But their fights never lasted more than thirty minutes, because the sexual passion for each other usually outweighed their disagreements. Sex was a language they understood and spoke very well together. All of their best and biggest decisions happened in the bedroom; to get married, to buy a house, to get that patio furniture set, and most recently, to start trying for children.

Despite their similarities and their obvious personality clashes, the love they have for each other was real. Though much of their foundation is based on their separate lies and deceit, their love was the glue that holds them together for the long hull… at least that's the hope if the time finally came to tell each other's big dark secret, which could ruin everything they've spent the last five years building.

"Why are you doing that lame-ass night watch thing?" Dean asked.

 _As an excuse to patrol without anyone asking questions_. Was what Buffy really wanted to say but instead, she replied, "The number of burglaries in this neighbourhood is getting ridiculous."

" _No_! Did that stupid yapping dog take _another_ newspaper from Parkins' doormat?" Dean pulled the knot holding up her messy pun. He watched her long blonde hair waterfall around her face and over shoulders hypnotizing him.

Buffy cocked an unamused brow easily suppressing her smirk.

With an eye-roll, Dean released a heavy breath, "Who's getting burglarized?"

"Dan and Sandy," Buffy said.

"That old couple up the block that lock themselves out of their car every fucking day?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Please, those old geezers couldn't see two feet in front of them, let alone realize something was taken."

Slapping her hand against his chest lightly, minding his bruises, Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, "Hey, don't be mean. They're a sweet old couple."

"Yeah, we'll be like that someday," Dean said with a boyish smile as he tucked the long strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I can just see us living that, 'apple-pie' old married couple dream." He pressed his mouth against her forehead.

"Only with you," Buffy muttered running the tip of her finger over the column of his throat. She lifted her eyes to his and fell in love with him all over again. "You are the only one I wanna grow old with."

Pushing back his injuries, Dean wrapped his arm around Buffy's slender waist and hoisted her up to his body. Buffy smiled and straddled his lap catching his mouth in a searing kiss. His fingers moved from around her waist to the buttons closing the flannel shirt around her body. "We're not old yet, Princess," Dean told her teasingly as he unbuttoned the buttons revealing her naked skin under the material.

Laughing into their kiss, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck as he rolled them across the bed. He could listen to her laughter all day and night long but at this exact moment all he wanted to feel her completely surrounding him and forget about his guilt for his constant lying and Jeff Parkins drooling over Buffy's stilettos.

Just for a little while, all he wanted to think about was how hot his smokin' wife was when she did that thing with her tongue or that thing with her hands.

 ** _Song Used: "Crimson and Clover" by Tommy James & the Shondells 1968_**


	3. Chapter 3

**2005**

 **Cleveland, Ohio**

 **Motel**

The shining sunlight streamed through the blinds of the motel room casting over Buffy's sleeping face.

She buried her face into the pillow as a poor attempt to hide from the morning sun.

Her entire body stiffened for a moment when she felt the thin bed sheet that covered her nude body slowly drifted down her torso, over her hip, revealing her bare bottom to the man laying behind her.

Buffy relaxed remembering everything from the night before. At the club she met Dean, then they went to a diner, shared a piece of apple-pie which he ingested at a remarkable rate, then after the apple-pie, somehow Buffy found herself naked in a bed in a motel room with Dean's lips kissing the length of her side from her hip to her shoulder.

Rolling onto her back, Buffy held her hand around his face and lowered him to her mouth. Her kiss was hungry as if she was deprived. She felt Dean smile against her mouth and shift over top of her and adjusted himself between her legs.

"Holy shit you're amazing." Dean broke the kiss with breathless amazement. It was true, never in his life had he ever been with a woman with not the just stamina to outlast the _Energizer Bunny_ and his body ached in places he had no idea existed. But what made her different from all of the other women he has ever had in his life including Cassie, was Dean really, really liked her. Hell, he might have possibly fallen in love with Buffy the moment his eyes fell on her at the club.

The strangest thing above all was he knew nothing about her; Not a single thing. She could have a closet filled with demented skeletons and Dean didn't give a damn. He was totally and completely bewitched after knowing her for less than 24/hours.

"You're not so bad yourself." The tip of her finger slid down his whiskered jawline.

"Do you wanna hear something strange?" Dean asked.

Buffy nodded silently waiting for a reply.

Dean kissed her mouth and toyed with the ends of her blonde hair before reaching her eyes, "I feel… like I've known you forever. That last night wasn't the first time we've ever met. That we've been doing _this_ ," he lowered his eyes to their naked bodies pressing together, "for a million years or something."

"I know what you mean."

Hoping he wasn't just getting his hopes up, Dean eyed her carefully, "You feel like that too?"

Buffy nodded and tilted her head to the side tracing the outline of his lips, "I haven't felt like this in a really long time." _Not since Angel—Now that was a million years ago._ Sure Buffy has had other love interests since Angel, but with Riley, she had to work so hard for something that could barely be disguised as love. With Spike, it didn't come naturally and it never really happened but it was so close—very close. Angel was instant love at first sight. _I wonder where Dean will fit—or if he 'fits' in anywhere at all… for all I know, this is a one-night stand and he's gone forever._ Buffy bit her bottom lip. _I really hope not._

"I'm not a huge believer in fate and karma… you know, shit like that but," Dean took her hand that was against his cheek and began to kiss her fingers, "I might have to rethink all of that now."

Feeling her smile widen, Buffy had the inkling feeling Dean was not one to express his emotions freely, in fear of sounding too feminine. He had a familiar sense of 'self-guarding' which was something Buffy knew all too well. "You're such a sweet-talker." She teased, giving Dean a sense of ease.

"I've been working on my bedside manner."

"Oh?" Buffy looked at him surprised, pretending to be slightly miffed to be just one of his conquests.

Dean smirked, "Yeah, I was a jerk-store to everyone else but a teddy-bear to you."

"I'm so honoured to be sharing a bed with 'teddy-bear Dean' rather than 'jerk-store Dean',"

"Hell yeah, you should be honoured! I am just _delightful_."

Buffy lifted her head slightly from the pillow tired of this conversation. What she currently wanted from Dean now was his cock to fill her and his mouth covering hers until she was left breathless. "Teddy-bear Dean, you talk too much." The heels of her feet dug into the back of his thighs, urging him along.

Dean looked at her with a slight surprise because of her strength, but he never questioned it. She closed the small space between their mouths with an impassioned kiss.

Grinning at his pure luck that finally he had found the perfect woman to match his desires and sarcasm, Dean gave her exactly what she wanted. He wrapped his arms around her back and pushed himself into her body with an easy force.

 **2010**

 **Cleveland, Ohio**

 **Winchester Residence**

The moment Buffy rolled out of the bed, Dean woke instantly feeling the loss.

He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow she laid on and breathed in the sent of her shampoo. Opening one eye, Dean watched with pleasure as Buffy stripped off the flannel shirt she had thrown back on sometime during the night.

It never ceased to amaze him of how beautiful she was. Having that same thought over and over in his head for five years, he was beginning to sound like a broken record. But he didn't care.

His body still ached but not to its extreme as it had the previous night. A lot of that was thanks to his very talented and extremely flexible and sometimes incredibly strong wife of his. He knew during her high school years she was a cheerleader. When he asked if she still had the uniform, Buffy revealed that it went down in the Sunnydale Crater like the rest of the town.

Imagine his genuine surprise when Buffy told him that she was from Sunnydale. Everyone had heard about the Sunnydale Crater, it was national news for months. It was a shock to him that his wife, someone so pure and sweet came from a place with a very dark history. He asked her a few times in the past if she knew about the towns strange reputation. Her response was always the same and incredibly vague. Dean went as far to ask her friends and family, who were also all from Sunnydale and their responses were even more obscure.

Only the demon hunters like Dean and Sam knew _why_ the town went down. Bobby had told them it was because of a 'Hellmouth'.

Sam and Bobby were somewhat useful with answers on what a 'Hellmouth' was because Dean didn't have a fucking clue. By the definition, they've found a 'Hellmouth' was a place between dimensions. It is a focal point, which serves as a portal between Hell and Earth. The 'Hellmouth' was pure Evil.

Dean thought that to be a load of bullshit because dimensions were not real. Heaven was only a sweet, happily-ever-after, storybook ending to what _really_ existed, _Purgatory._

Between the dust and stacks of books in Bobby's library, Sam found one of particular interest. It was a leather bound book, Bobby had been given a long, long time ago. It was called, _A Watcher's Diary: Origin History._

In this dusty old book, it described the _Slayer_. The _Slayer_ was created thousands of years ago, before Christ in ancient Africa. A group of tribal men called, Shadow Men infused an unfortunate soul with the essence of a pure demon using very dark magic.

Ever since reading that tidbit about the _Slayer_ , Dean had become hellbent on finding the _Slayer_ himself. So he could kill _it_. In his mind, there should be no 'human'—if you can even call it 'human' walking around stronger than man and with the 'essence' of a demon. Instilled in Dean Winchester from an early age by his father, anything that involves, demons and magic were _Evil_ and there was no in-between.

Dean hasn't found the _Slayer_ just yet, but after following a few leads he might be closer than he thought. One night on the hunt, while Buffy was at a school event, Dean had gotten a beer at one of the hidden local demon bars. He listened carefully as the demons claimed to have had a 'run-in' with the _Slayer_. The _Slayer_ was real and it was in Cleveland. Dean's concerns were beginning to reach the brim. Not only did Dean have to protect himself from the _Slayer_ but the entire state of Ohio and most importantly, his wife. More than anything, Dean had to protect his wife; she's the love of his life for Pete's sake.

"Hey you," Dean sleepily mumbled.

Flicking off the bathroom light after fixing her hair and makeup, Buffy looked over to the bed and tenderly smiled.

"Where're you going?"

Buffy felt her heart flutter as Dean rubbed his tired eyes in a boyish manner that she loved so much. Crossing the short distance towards him, Buffy laid a gentle hand against his shoulder, guiding him back down onto the mattress. "I'm going to that great big brick box that I run a hundred and eighty days of the year."

"No," Dean whined wrapping his arm around her waist pulling her into his naked body, "stay and have sex with me."

Smiling into his short hair, Buffy nipped his ear and whispered, "I can't. We've got bills to pay…" she closed her eyes, as Dean kissed the exposed skin of her v-neck blouse to her neck, "…and getting nails done…" Buffy moaned. All coherent thoughts began to stagger in her brain as she began to fall under his seductive trance.

Knowing he was winning her over, Dean sat up on the bed and continued to kiss up her neck to her mouth, "C'mon, Buf…" he kissed her again, tasting her strawberry lip gloss, "… let's make a baby…" he grinned into his kiss.

Breaking away for a gasp of breath, Buffy shook herself from his trance and gently pressed her hands against his chest trying desperately to hold back her actual power. In their entire relationship, there had only been a small handful of times she let her supernatural strength slip, it usually happened when he worked her up with unrelenting desire.

"No, I've—I've—I've…" Buffy stuttered, "… gotta go…" she made a final push and distanced herself from her incredibly seductive and insanely attractive husband.

She composed herself and held up her finger when Dean started to get out of the bed letting the thin sheet covering his naked waist fall. "No, no… you—you stay right there, Mister."

"Buf," Dean gave her a cheeky smile.

"No, I—I mean it." Buffy started to back away towards the bedroom door. She quickly grabbed her heels and leather coat as she backed away. "I—I gotta go." Buffy disappeared from the bedroom leaving Dean laughing.

* * *

 _ **Leave a Review!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Travers Academy**

A large crane carried a new iron sign for the front of the new and improved Slayer Organization, also known as, the Watcher's Council but cleverly disguised as the #1 ranked best private school in the state of Ohio.

Standing outside its main doors, Xander visored his hand over his one good eye directing his on-site construction crew of where to place the new sign. Willow and Dawn both stood beside him with their hands visored over their eye, blocking out the morning sun.

"It's so big," Dawn stated.

"And shiny," Willow added.

"And not… straight," Xander frowned and stepped forward towards his crew. "Guys, a little more to the left! To the left!" He yelled again. "The _left!—_ That's your right!"

From behind, Buffy crossed the circle driveway from the parking lot and stepped between her little sister and best friend. "What are we looking at?" Buffy scrunched her nose and looked up to see the crane moving back and forth with uncertainty. "I don't know why we named this Academy; a beacon of our new hopeful future after a man, who tried to kill me, Giles, mom, and everybody else on _several_ occasions." Buffy tilted her head to the side.

Willow said with a smile, "Maybe it's for the 'future of forgiveness',"

Thinking about Willow's reasoning for a moment, Buffy slowly shook her head, "Mm, no, I don't think that's it."

Xander stepped back by his friends and girlfriend. He looked at Buffy with a smile, "Hey Buf, you like the new sign?" He wagged his brows pointing up at the sign.

Dawn wrapped her hand around his arm and said, "Nah, Buffy's second-guessing the name for the umpteenth time."

"It wasn't _ever_ my pick of a name, to begin with!" Buffy argued.

Dawn rolled her eyes with a smirk, "You're only mad because Mr Gordo Academy was knocked off the list."

"It was a solid name. A perfect _beacon_ of new hope for the future." Buffy pouted.

"Hey," Willow drew the conversation elsewhere, "did you ever… find out?" Her brows were high up her forehead and a girlish smile of hopeful excitement plastered across her face.

Buffy gave her a half smile with a touch of sadness, "Um, no, not yet. I wouldn't know if I'm… at _least_ for another two weeks."

"Know what?" Xander asked feeling completely out of the loop.

"And Dean's only been back for, uh, one night." Buffy finished. "But I guess it only really takes 'one time,' doesn't it?" Buffy felt her slight pout lower down her face thoughtfully.

"Well, you have to know _soon!_ " Willow said with giddy excitement.

Xander frowned with his hands on his hips, " _Know what?_ " He raised his voice gaining the girls attention again.

Willow frowned not wanting the entire school to know, "If Buffy's P. R. E. G. N. A. N. T."

With a frown, Xander worked out of the word in his head and said, "Pragnent?"

The girls gave Xander an odd look unsure if he was serious when Dawn rolled her eyes and whispered, "If Buffy's _pregnant,_ " into his ear.

"Oh…" Xander slowly nodded his head.

The girls began to walk into the large old building leaving Xander where he stood as he slowly caught up with the entire conversation. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the crane moving off centre again. "Guys, to the _left_! The _left_! The _left_!"

 **Afternoon**

 **Buffy's Office**

Sitting in the large leather chair behind her desk, staring out of the window to the big city. Buffy cherished the bit of silence for at least a minute or two. But she could not shake that restless feeling itching inside of her. It was her Slayer-senses tingling. Buffy released a heavy breath and toyed with the diamond ring sitting on her left-hand ring finger.

The Cleveland Hellmouth was beginning to rumble in a familiar way Buffy recognized all too well. A 'Big Bad' was brewing and soon it will make itself known.

A part of her wanted Dean to get another case which forced him to leave the state for a month, maybe two. It would give her enough time to avert this oncoming apocalypse and simultaneously keep her husband safe but most importantly, left in the dark of her destined calling.

She has kicked herself over and over for keeping Dean in the dark of who she really was. For reasons which were so _clear_ back then were so… _unclear_ now. Little by little she felt herself pushing him away in that familiar way which drove Riley out of town.

 _It was a stupid idea, to begin with!_ Buffy shook her head exhausted from her own conflicting thoughts. _When did it get so easy to lie to him? It's easier to lie to him now than it ever was with mom—at least at first it was._ Buffy chewed her bottom lip in a nervous habit. _It's getting harder… He knows me too well… Soon, he'll figure it out. You're going to slip up and he's going to know that you're a… well, you and he'll probably head for the hills!_

That was Buffy's biggest fear; Dean would find out who—what she really was, a Vampire Slayer and he'd run. She feared that he'd think their entire marriage was a sham. That he'd think she was some sort of demon straight from Hell. _Would he—could he understand? Or would he think I should be locked away at the funny farm?_

The cell phone on the top of her desk rattled. Without thought, Buffy reached behind her to the phone and answered the call without looking at the i.d. "This is Buffy Winchester," she greeted with her formal business tone.

"Ah, yes, Missus _Winchester_ , I've heard you were quite a hottie with a-rockin' body and you're very naughty." The rumble in his low voice gave Buffy goosebumps. She couldn't fight the smile forming across her face. "And I also hear you run a _very_ prestigious private school, ranked number one on the list of the 'Best Private Schools in Ohio, 2010'. That's quite a resume you've got there, _Missus Winchester._ "

Hearing his voice was exactly what she needed to push all of these doom and gloom thoughts from her head. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, how'd you know it was me, Princess?"

"You're not as Secret-Identity-Man as you think, Winchester." Buffy smiled into the phone hearing his low laugh that sent shivers through her entire body. She loved his low, rumbling deep voice, it gave her a comfort which only Dean could provide.

"I hope I'm at least… a _little_ Secret-Identity-Man." He teased. "I'm just calling 'cause I wanted to hear your voice—I know, I know, I'm turning into fucking Samantha," Buffy giggled, "but whatever, I love you and I wanted to hear your voice—and if you tell Sam that I got super sappy on you then I'll…"

Buffy bit her bottom lip and sat back in the chair facing the large window looking out to the busy city. "You'll what?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line for a moment, "I'll… do that thing with my hand that'll make you scream."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Buffy had always enjoyed their flirtatious banter. "'Cause, honey, I _want_ you to do that thing with your hand that'll make me scream." She felt utterly scandalous talking so provocatively in a school setting.

"Fuck, that's true… shit…" Dean grumbled losing his ill-constructed argument. "I'm actually calling for a reason."

"Oh? This phone call is not just of piss-poor attempts at threats?"

Her smile widened with his snarky laugh and then him muttering, bitch under his breath. "No, Sam called."

Buffy felt her smile fall knowing what that usually meant. If Sam or Bobby ever called, it meant there was a case most likely out of town and Dean would have to leave on the double. "Oh yeah?" She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Yeah, he's, uh, coming up here."

With surprise, Buffy sat up slightly and listened carefully, "Oh yeah?"

"I was wondering if it was cool if he crashed at our place?"

"Of course. You don't need my permission, Dean."

"I know that," Dean began, "I just didn't want you to come home and see that Sam was there and you'd get all pissed at me 'cause I didn't tell you. That _has_ happened before—need I remind you of the spring of 2007. Does that ring any bells?"

Buffy felt her smile again, "I appreciate it, Dean. But you know Sam is welcome to our house anytime. He's my family too."

"I love you,"

Dean simple and direct statement sent Buffy into a spiral of bliss which hadn't lasted long as she came to the realisation that now she had to dodge one more person for her nightly patrols. "I love you, too." Buffy easily masked her internal distress.


	5. Chapter 5

**Evening**

 **Winchester Residence**

"Are you sure me crashing here is cool with Buffy?" Sam asked as he followed Dean into the house with a duffle bag in one hand.

Dean glanced back at his younger brother over his shoulder and scrunched his face. " _Of course_ its cool with Buffy. She's not the boss of me. She can't tell me who I can bring over and…" the words on Dean's lips died understanding the knowing expression set on Sam's face. "Okay, _sometimes_ she may tell me what to do but…" Sam began to laugh, "… it's _only_ because I like it when she gets all… 'dominatrix,'" Dean wagged his brows with a wide grin.

Sam scoffed with a heavy eye-roll and entered the house placing his bag down at his feet.

" _What_?" With a frown, Dean stepped inside closing the door behind him and tossed the separate bag filled with guns down near Sam's bag. "Hey, man, you wouldn't be making that face if you saw her in tight leather pants holding a bullwhip."

Sam's face churned with disgust just imagining his brother naked in bed being whipped. "Ugh, Dean,"

"Dude, you should see your face." Dean laughed at him.

Needing out of this extremely uncomfortable conversation, Sam stepped into the living room and noticed it had been redone… again.

"This is new." Sam pointed at the handcrafted shelf on the wall.

"Yeah, Buffy's been into this 'all natural' wood decor lately," Dean ran a hand through his short hair. "Some sort of feng shui bullshit."

With surprise, Sam looked at Dean and pointed at the shelf, "You do this?"

Silently, Dean nodded.

Impressed by his brother's carpentry, Sam ran his hand over the smooth wood and glanced over the framed photographs placed strategically along the shelf surface.

A small smile tugged at Sam's face running his eyes over his brother's grinning face. Wrapped in Dean's arms was his at the time wife-to-be, who had also been grinning at the camera.

Studying the photo, Sam thought back to Dean, busting into the motel room giving his big announcement. It had been a very long time since he's seen Dean look that happy. After everything that's happened in their past, Dean's stint in purgatory, and the death of their father, Sam wasn't sure if Dean could ever find any sort of happiness again.

It wasn't until Dean had met Buffy. Sam noticed an overnight change in his brother. It started when he came back from the motel room he shared with Buffy to the shared motel room he shared with Sam. They weren't going to stay in Cleveland for long, in fact, they were going to leave that morning but Sam noticed a reluctance with Dean. He didn't want to leave.

About two months later, the Winchester's found themselves back in Cleveland due to very suspicious and supernatural activity. Sam had never seen Dean complete a hunt so quickly before. There was no messing around because his brother had one goal only; hook-up with Buffy Summers again.

The following morning, Sam woke up to Dean throwing objects at him. That was when the impossible became suddenly possible. Dean announced he was getting married.

Sam remembered sitting in the bed staring at his brother with disbelief. Dean Winchester, a sworn bachelor, a known womanizer was going to be monogamous to one woman and one woman only for the rest of his life. Dean Winchester was getting married.

 **2005**

 **Cleveland Motel Inn**

 **Room 314**

"You're doing what?" Sam's jaw was comically slacked stuck in the rut of utter shock.

Dean stood in front of him with a large grin on his face. "I'm getting married." He repeated with an equal amount of joy

"To who?—To that one-night stand? You're marrying a hook-up?" Sam stared unblinkingly at Dean.

"Her name is Buffy," Dean's smile slowly dropped, offended by Sam's lack of respect for his fiancée.

"You're getting married to a girl named… _Buffy_? Dean, what's gotten into you, man?"

A megawatt smile tugged at Dean's lips, "Sammy, I'm in love."

Sam shook his head and opened his mouth but nothing came out but air. He ran his hazel eyes over Dean for a moment, really taking in the sudden change in him. The happiness radiating off of Dean seemed genuine but he always got that way after sex then it faded and he was 'Dean' again.

Considering, Dean's absurd announcement, Sam looked at his brother and decided to challenge his _true_ affections and desires for a marriage to a woman he didn't know. "Okay, so you're getting married," Dean nodded with a grin, "to a woman named… Buffy." _Strange name._ Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "Do you know anything about her? Anything?"

"Of _course_ I do." Dean waved his hand and sat down at the small round table near the window. "She's a principal at a fancy private school, she has green eyes, beautiful blonde hair—that's long like…" Dean gave an approximation of how long Buffy's hair was, "… down to here… and her smile is—"

"—Dean, you're describing what she looks like."

" _No._ If was describing her looks I'd say, she has two eyes kind of in the middle." Sarcasm dripped in his words.

Releasing a heavy breath, Sam got out of the bed and crossed the small motel room to sit across from his brother at the table. "Dean, do you know _anything_ about this girl, that's not job-related or about her looks?"

"She's _really_ good at sex. Whoo," Dean whistled and wagged his brows, "bendy."

With a heavy eye-roll, Sam fought the urge to slap his forehead in frustration. " _Dean,_ you can't marry a girl because she's good at sex."

Dean gave his brother a strange look as if he was suddenly speaking a foreign language.

"Do you even know her middle name?" Sam took Dean's silence as a 'no'. "Dean, you can't marry a woman if you don't even know her middle name!" He scolded.

"Anne," Dean replied much to Sam's surprise. "Her middle name is Anne."

For the first time, Dean released a heavy breath getting serious. He understood his brother's hesitations and great concerns but Dean had thought about this… sort of. The proposal was more like; it just came out like word vomit and once it was said aloud, it felt perfectly right.

"Sam, I know enough."

"How about with you? Does Buffy know anything about you?"

"She knows enough."

Sam didn't mean to get as annoyed as he was feeling but Dean, a self-described forever bachelor was jumping off a cliff without weighing any of the options of realities in front of him. "Does she know you're a hunter?"

Looking at Sam squarely in the eyes, Dean said, "No." Dean knew it was dumb to keep something so important to his identity as a human being but he was afraid.

"How's that going to work, Dean? How's Buffy going to take you leaving for a week, two weeks, a month, two months? Don't you think she'd start to get suspicious?"

Dean held up his index finger proud of himself for taking a moment to think like Sam. "I've already thought about that. I told her that I am a private investigator with you and sometimes that means leaving the state for a while. She seemed completely okay with that."

"Okay, so what happens if Buffy—"

"—Sam," Dean interrupted, "I know you think I'm jumping into some unknown blackhole without even thinking but… being with Buffy—even if it was only just a few times it's enough. She makes me happy, Sam —really happy. She fills the cracks," Dean gestured to himself. "She makes me all whole and healed. I _want_ this, Sam. More than anything, I _really_ want this. I wanna marry Buffy Anne Summers. I want the whole damn apple-pie."

Sam released a breath feeling for his brother. Never in his entire life has he ever heard Dean talk like this. All of his wants and desires were temporary, like a one-night stand. There were a lot of missing pieces that were being pushed aside, Dean seemed aware of it but Sam just couldn't let it go quite yet.

He had an inkling feeling that sooner or later, those 'missing pieces' will be found and it will end tragically ruining any chances for Dean to find happiness again. "What happens if she figures it out? What you are… what are we? What happens if Buffy figures out that monsters are real?—That you've been lying to her from day one." Sam asked.

Sam recognized that look on Dean's face. His clenched jaw trying to conceal his own pain of 'what ifs' but the actuality of it was that Dean was petrified of what could happen. What if she finds out ten years into the marriage that they have two kids and a dog? Would she accept him or would she tell him to pack his bags because he's a lunatic? These were questions that clogged his mind as soon as she accepted his makeshift proposal. But he wanted her too much to take back his proposal.

"If she loves me, she'd accept me." Dean's reply was filled with uncertainty still but it seemed to get Sam temporally off of his back.

"That's a lot to ask from one person," Sam said as he sat back in the chair. He ran a hand over his tired face. This was the last conversation he ever expected to have with Dean; A conversation about Dean and his fiancée. He lifted his eyes and watched Dean carefully, "So… you're getting married."

A slow comical grin crossed Dean's frown relieved that Sam was beginning to accept his crazy declaration.

 **2010**

 **Winchester Residence**

Sam placed the photograph back onto the shelf and straightened it out to match the other photographs beside it.

The younger brother began to turn around to face Dean when he accidentally walked into a wooden chest nearest to the coffee table and couch.

"Ow," Sam grunted and looked down at the chest. Taking a special interest in the pine wooden chest, Sam kneeled down running his hand over the smooth surface. With disbelief, he admired the ornate carvings decorating the chest. "Whoa, Dean, I mean your shelf is great and all but this is…"

"I didn't make that," Dean said moving to the couch to sit. "Xander made that I think."

"He did a great job with it." Sam unlatched the lock and glanced up to Dean. "What's inside?"

Dean ran a hand over his face and said, "Blankets, pillows, shit like that. I dunno, Buffy's the one that goes in that thing all the time. I just sit here."

"And do what?" Sam's brows furrowed together with confusion.

"Wait. She likes to cuddle."

Sam stared at his brother blankly for a moment then busted out laughing at the thought of 'tough-guy' Dean cuddling like a teddy-bear.

Throwing the small pillow on the couch at Sam, Dean's frown deepened. "Shut up!" He grunted. "That's how it works in this house. _I_ cuddle—it makes _her_ happy and then she gives _me_ a 'happy'. We both get what we want." Dean grinned with a wink.

"Ew, gross, dude! I don't want to hear about your sex life!" Sam threw back the pillow at Dean with a disgusted face.

Sam would be a complete liar if he said that he never imagined Buffy sexually before. It was hard not too. She's the entire package. Buffy's sweet, funny, with a sensible head on her shoulders, and she's beautiful. Sam had daydreamed about Buffy a time or two after first meeting her. He wanted to run his fingers through her wheat-blonde hair. He wanted to trace the lines of her heart-shaped lips and melt in her green eyes. It didn't take Sam long to realize that Buffy was not only off limits but she was completely not interested. Her eyes were only on Dean. Sam knew very, _very_ quickly that Buffy had reciprocated Dean's feelings. There was no tearing them apart, as far they knew.

Sam eyed the chest finding himself irrationally curious. He lifted the lid of the chest and eyed the contents inside. He wasn't sure what he expected to find in the wooden chest that would've differed from what Dean had told him. Inside the chest was just blankets and pillows.

He closed the chest lid and stood to move towards the love-seat across from Dean and said, "I got a lead on the Slayer."

Dean sat up with immediate interest, "And? Did you figure out where the demon is? How to kill it? Will the Colt work?… I mean it should… What if the Slayer is working with Yellow-Eyed demon—We're fucked." Dean began to think aloud lost in his head.

"Dean," Sam watched Dean's expression sink with disappointment. "I kind of—sort of got a lead."

"Which is it?" Dean grew frustrated.

"Do you remember a hunter named Cain?" Sam asked. "We met Cain on a hunt with Dad in Kentwood, Louisiana a few years back."

Dean thought for a moment with a frown and said, "You mean the dude with the Werewolf teeth around his neck?"

With a nod, Sam said, "That's the guy. Well, I ran into him again in Arkansas about three days ago. He was tracking a herd of Werewolves and I was trying to find something—anything about the Slayer. He caught wind that I was tracking it and we got to talking."

"So?"

"Cain passed through Sunnydale sometime in the late nineties."

Dean's ears perked when he heard the ill-fated town's name. "Sunnydale? The crater town? My wife's hometown?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, _that_ town. Cain said he stumbled across the Slayer while he was there."

"You're shitting me."

"No, I'm serious. Cain met the Slayer. If the Slayer was terrorizing that town when it cratered… that could be the reason why it did. Slayer got the 'Hellmouth' to swallow the town… to kill everyone." Sam reasoned.

Dean sat forward with his elbows on his knees, "What do we know now? How big of a demon are we fighting? Does _it_ have scales, breathe fire, speak Latin… What?"

"The Slayer isn't a demon… per say. I mean, it doesn't _look_ like a demon."

"It looks like a human." Dean easily pieced together. It was not a strange concept for something Evil to disguise itself as something that looks human. A lot of demons did that. "Shape-shifter?" Sam shook his head. "Did you get a description? What does the man look like?"

"It's not a man, either." Sam corrected. "According to Cain, the Slayer is a teenage girl. He said she was a blonde, kind of dainty looking, attitude for days…"

"So we're looking for a lanky chick with blonde hair and a chip on her shoulder? Done. How hard can that be?" Dean smirked with an eye-roll no longer as afraid of the Slayer as originally now that he knew he was facing a teenage girl.

Sam knew that look on Dean's face and read his mind. "Cain said, she bent his rifle in _half_. Right in front of him. Dean, we can't underestimate the Slayer just because the demon looks like a chick. If anything that'll make it more powerful because we didn't expect it."

 _He's not wrong_. Dean reasoned in his mind. "Okay, at least we've got a description. I know what I'm looking for. Why was the Slayer in Sunnydale?" _Maybe Buffy would know—No! Dean, you can't ask her. She'll figure something's up and it'll all be shit from there._ Dean argued with himself. Suddenly, Dean felt his heart pound in his chest with terror. _Did Buffy know about the Slayer and the weird things happening in that town? Has she been affected by any of it? How did she save herself when the Slayer was killing everyone?—No, man, you know Buffy. She would've said something._

Dean ran a hand over his frustrated with his own back and forth with himself.

 _She probably wouldn't say much of anything… Buffy isn't really the 'babe, here's what I'm thinking' type._ Dean began to doubt himself. _Fuck, man, you should've been honest with her from the start!_

"I think probably because of the 'Hellmouth'. It attracts a lot of demons, vampires, and shape-shifters. I mean _it is_ a portal straight to Hell. The 'Hellmouth' was located in an all-American town filled with unsuspecting innocence… It's a Slayer's playground." Sam said.

Dean looked up at Sam almost startled that he was there, having been so lost in his own head. "That's true," Dean muttered. Quickly, he formulated a plan using Sam's description and his own lead that the Slayer was lurking somewhere in Cleveland. "Alright, tonight we'll go out, get some more information, and hopefully run into the Slayer. She'll get a bullet from the Colt."

"Assuming the Colt will work on her."

"The Slayer has the 'essence' of a demon inside of her. The Colt will work."

The front door gently opened, immediately interrupting Dean's words of determination.

The Winchester brothers turned their heads to the foyer to see Buffy taking off her coat and hanging it on the wall peg. She faced the men in the living room and smiled sweetly, "Honey, I'm home." She said with a sultry breathless voice she knew Dean could never resist.

Pushing all thoughts of the hunt and the Slayer aside, Dean wrapped his hand around Buffy's waist and pulled her onto his lap. Buffy slid across, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. She lowered her face, brushing her mouth over his in a brief, 'I've missed you all day' kiss.

Buffy broke the kiss and looked across the coffee table to Sam with a large smile, "Hi Sam."

"Hey, Buffy. I like what you've done with the place." Sam gestured around the newly decorated living room.

"Oh, thank you," her smile widened.

Dean cleared his throat loudly to get her attention.

With an eye-roll, Buffy shook her head looking down at her husband. She brushed her nose against his and said, "Yes, I know. Dean helped too." Buffy told Sam sharing a smile. "So what were you boys talking about? I feel like I interrupted something." Her green eyes went back and forth between the Winchester brothers.

"Uh, nothing," Sam swallowed nervously, lying was never his best forte.

Buffy eyed him wondering just exactly what was hiding behind those honest eyes of his.

Dean's arms wrapped tighter around her waist, drawing her eyes away from Sam and back to him. He tucked the long strands of blonde hair behind her ear and gave her his most charming smile. "Me and Sammy were thinking about going to the _Torch Bar_. You wanna join us?"

Sam's eyes were instantly on Dean. _Dude, what the hell are you thinking?_

Keeping his eyes firmly on Buffy, Dean watched the wheels in her mind turn then her fingers gripped his leather jacket collar. "Nah, you two go. Have fun."

"You sure?" Dean asked rubbing his hand up and down Buffy's thigh.

 _Dude!_ Sam wanted to yell at his brother. _She said, no! What the hell, man?_

Buffy softly smiled down at Dean and kissed his mouth tenderly, "Yes, I'm sure. That place smells like stale cigarettes." She scrunched her nose with disgust.

Dean gave a low chuckle then whined like a small puppy when Buffy moved off of his lap. She adjusted her blouse top and began to re-fold a throw blanket.

"What are you going to do tonight?" Dean asked with his hands behind his head. His eyes ran over her backside as she bent over to pick up a pillow from the couch.

"Uh, night-watch night," Buffy replied.

"Night-watch?" Sam looked at Dean with a questioning gaze.

Dean smirked, "Yeah, Buffy's been 'giving back' to the senior citizens of the neighbourhood."

"Oh, will you shut up about Dan and Sandy." Buffy tossed the pillow at Dean then looked at Sam. "They were burglarized and it was _very_ _traumatic_ for them. So I'm just pitching in every few nights because it makes everyone in the neighbourhood—minus Dean, feel safer. Sue me for wanting to do something nice for someone else."

" _I'll_ do something nice for you!" Dean leaned forward catching Buffy by her waist as she started to move around him. He pulled back into his body and onto his lap.

With a laugh, Buffy wriggled in his lap as he tickled her. "Dean! Stop! Stop!" She whined with uncontrollable laughter.

Dean caught her mouth in is a passionate kiss. Kiss that instantly made Sam feel incredibly awkward. There were moments just like this, of two people desperately in love with each other that made Sam miss Jessica the most. He longed to feel like that for a woman once more. He was beginning to believe that he had his 'one' and it wasn't going to ever happen again. Buffy was definitely Dean's 'one'. Despite not knowing her own husband 'completely'; Buffy understood Dean better than anyone, better than Sam if ever thought possible.

Sam turned his eyes back up to the couple, now in a full-out make-out session. His expression twisted with disgust. There were also moments like this that also made Sam want to crawl into a hole just to block out the image of his brother shoving his tongue down Buffy's throat. _Gross_.

Clearing his throat louder than necessary, Sam watched their passionate kiss soften until it finally broke apart.

Buffy glanced her eyes over at Sam and blushed almost forgetting there was someone else in the house with them. She ducked her head into Dean's neck and felt him smile with a laugh. Dean ran his hand through her honey blonde hair bewitched by her apparent embarrassment.

"Will it just be you walking at night?" Dean ran his hand up her thigh, easily masking his worry.

Buffy lifted her head from its comfortable position in the crook of his neck and said, "No, Gale is my 'watch partner'."

"Watch partner?" Dean began to laugh.

Slapping her hand gently over his chest, Buffy pretended to be insulted, "Hey, it's what they're called." She stood from his lap.

"Babe, where're you going?" Dean called out as Buffy started up the stairs to change from her work clothes. "Come back! Don't be like that! Buf, come back!"

"You shouldn't have been a jerk!" Buffy called down the stairs.

Grinning at the situation, Dean turned his eyes to Sam, who had been laughing during the entire exchange.

"Marriage," Dean shook his head and continued to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Night**

 **Neighbourhood Watch Brigade**

Standing under the street-light waiting patiently, Buffy stuffed her hand hands into her long black leather jacket and stared down at her stylish black boots. Beginning to become a bit out of ease, Buffy glanced down at her watch and quickly wondered where Dean was and if he and Sam were safe. She had ordered a small group of Slayers to patrol the area but to stay out of the way of Dean and Sam, careful not to draw any suspicion. The Slayers knew this particular routine well, they called it, 'Operation: PTH (Protect the Hubby).'

"Oh, I am so sorry, Buffy!" Gale, a middle-aged woman with a short sensible haircut and a friendly smile came down the small walkway of her house. "George was just being rotten tonight." She waved her hand with a laugh. "His Indians are down three points and something about that Jeter fella… Oh, I don't know. Does your Dean like baseball?"

Buffy frowned and fell into step with the overly chatty woman. She shrugged with a pouting frown, "Um, no, I… don't think so. I've never seen him watch it. So I guess not."

"Oh, well, he's not missing anything. I'm sure Dean spends his time being very useful to you."

An immediate flashback of Dean looking up from between her legs wearing that smug yet incredibly charming smile on his face. His lips shiny with her sex and his fingers tightening around her thighs making her head drop back with a passionate moan.

Buffy cleared her throat thankful the darkness hid her blushing cheeks, "Y —yes, he's very useful."

The two women continued down the dark neighbourhood street heading towards a cemetery not far from the area. Cleveland had its fair share of cemeteries, Buffy was certain there would probably be something bumping in the night there but she'd cross that bridge when it came.

 **Across Town**

Walking through the opposite side of town, Dean kept his eyes firmly in front of him, scanning the dark shadows.

Beside him, Sam followed with his hands into his pockets and uncertain look on his face. "Why'd you invite Buffy along with us?"

"I didn't invite Buffy along with us," Dean replied.

"Yeah, you did. You asked if she wanted to go to that bar. You asked her _twice_."

Dean's brows pinched together examining the dark street. "'Cause I knew she wouldn't want to go. She hates that bar 'cause it smells like stale cigarettes. You heard her."

Piecing it all together, Sam slowly nodded feeling dumb for not catching onto Dean's thought process sooner. "You didn't want to piss her off by just leaving with me without inviting her along. But you knew she'd refuse anyway."

"The thing about women you gotta understand, Sammy, is that you gotta play 'the game' first. I know what Buffy's thinking before she even has the thought."

Looking at his older brother with amused disbelief, Sam smirked, "Oh yeah?"

" _Ab-so-lately_. Buffy's not that, 'unpredictable,'" Dean was more than confident with himself and his 'abilities' to successfully navigate around his wife.

Shaking his head, Sam continued on down the street with Dean unbelieving of Dean's apparent 'astuteness'.

 **Neighbourhood Night-Watch Brigade**

In the near distance, Buffy eyed the cemetery nearest to the _Torch Bar_ was coming into the view under the street-lights.

 _Now, you gotta get rid of Gale._ Buffy thoughtfully chewed her bottom lip trying to think of an excuse to get her out of the way.

"It's getting eerie out here," Gale said with a bit of dread in her voice as she eyed the cemetery.

Half distracted, Buffy noticed a black shadow moving between the mausoleums. _I see you._ A shooting tingle show through her entire body from her fingers to her toes. It was her Slayer-senses buzzing.

"Gale," Buffy stopped and looked at the older woman patiently smiling down at her, "how about you go home, it's getting late and we don't have that much to 'night-watch' anymore. I can finish it."

"Oh, I don't want to leave you out here all alone, Buffy. It's _too_ dangerous."

"Honestly, it's just around the block and back, I'll be just fine. Promise." Buffy said with an easy smile,

Gale paused for a moment weighing her options Buffy had presented her. With a single nod and a warm smile, Gale said, "Oh, okay, Buffy. Only if you're sure it's okay then—"

"—It's more than okay." She cursed herself for sounding too eager.

"Well, alrighty then. I'm off. I have quite night for myself. It's baked ziti night in my Italian class tomorrow." Gale wagged her fingers and hustled back down the street slightly afraid of the crisp black night.

Buffy watched Gale walk down the street until she was sure, Gale couldn't see her anymore. Turning back towards the cemetery, Buffy took out 'Mr Pointy' her favourite stake from her sleeve and gripped it tightly in her hand. A part from her hated not having the Scythe but since Dean's back, she's forced to leave her beloved weapon in the secret weapons closet in her office.

With stealthy alertness, Buffy crossed the deserted street and walked up the steps entering the ominous cemetery.

 **Cemetery**

Silent moonlight cast over the deadened graveyard.

Buffy crept across the grass following the tracks of shoe prints. A break of a twig perched her ears. She listened closely and felt a presence coming up behind her. Her entire body relaxed letting her Slayer-instincts consume her entire being.

With lightning-fast movements, Buffy twisted around catching the vampire off guard. She grabbed his flying fists and elbowed him across the face.

The vampire snarled raising its yellow eyes up at the Vampire Slayer. He flashed his fangs and attacked the young woman. Buffy easily defended herself against the fledging. She drove his face into her knee and watched him fall onto his back.

Flipping up from the ground, the vampire grew angry and desperate for her blood which intoxicated his demonic senses.

* * *

"Whoa, you see that?" Dean said holding out his hand to Sam's chest forcing him to stop mid-step.

"What?" Sam followed Dean's gaze to a shadowed figure standing out in the open near a mausoleum.

Dean jumped into action, "C'mon," he ordered taking off into a sprint across the cemetery towards the vampire and Buffy.

* * *

Buffy easily deflected the attacks of the vampire and was equally caught off guard when his dress shoe kicked into her abdomen, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Buffy's aggressive stance did not waver, keeping her advantage.

The vampire heard another set of stomping feet coming straight towards him. He glanced over able to make out two men running right after him. He shoved the Slayer against the mausoleum and took off in a haste.

"Oh, no you don't." Buffy gritted her teeth and went after the vampire.

* * *

The vampire was too fast for the Winchester brothers. The supernatural speed of the vampire in this area never ceased to amaze them. They've never crossed vampires or demons quite like the ones on the Hellmouth. The demons here were pure demons like the mythical kind come to life. The monsters that came from the Hellmouth were a breed that craved only blood and chaos.

Unable to run any faster, Dean and Sam paused holding their hands on their knees choking for breath.

Dean looked up into the darkness only able to make out two shadowy shapes. His eyes narrowed, watching the vampire fly across the graveyard with a thud.

"Holy shit," Dean pointed.

The brothers stood hid into the darkness watching the fight between the vampire they had spotted and someone else they couldn't make out in the darkness.

* * *

Buffy leapt off of the gravestone placed in her way, her legs wrapped around the vampire's neck twisting him violently to the ground.

Struggling to break free from Buffy's stronghold, the vampire head-butted her forehead and shoved her away.

The vampire scrambled to his feet and growled, " _Slayer._ "

Not easily defeated, Buffy jumped back to her feet and spun the stake between her fingers with a smirk then jabbed the stake into the vampire's dead heart.

* * *

Hiding behind the mausoleum, Dean and Sam looked at each other with huge eyes.

"Slayer," Sam said. "That vampire said, Slayer."

Dean reached to the Colt placed between his belt and jeans, he cocked the hammer back and aimed the barrel steadily at the dark feminine figure standing over the dust pile in front of her.

He frowned cursing the shadows the _Slayer_ hid herself. Unable to get a good shot, Dean inched up closer to get more around the corner when he stepped on a dry leaf cracking it. _Shit._ His eyes snapped up to see the feminine figure become immediately alert. Dean blinked again and she was gone.

After years of searching, he finally found the _Slayer._ He had the shot and he somehow fucked it up by stepping on a leaf.

"At least we know where we can find her," Sam said trying to be a bit optimistic.

"That's not good enough," Deans anger radiated off of his body. "That _demon_ is just going to kill again and soon." Dean stood from his crouching position. "C'mon, we can at least do another sweep before getting back to Buffy. I don't want her walking around outside with the Slayer on the prowl."

* * *

 ** _Leave a Review!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Winchester Residence**

 **3:07 A.M.**

An unknown force made Dean wake up with a start. Staring up at the ceiling, Dean contained his composure and turned his head to his other side to see Buffy still sound asleep.

He ran his eyes over her. She looked peaceful in her slumber.

Not wanting to disturb her, Dean sat up on the bed and reached for a t-shirt draped on the back chair near the vanity mirror. He stood from the edge of the bed and quietly walked out of the bedroom.

Closing the door softly behind him, Dean looked down the dark hallway and tie-toed towards the stairs, careful avoid the known creeks that could wake the entire neighbourhood.

Reaching the bottom step, Dean turned another corner and went into the kitchen. He stood at the counter island unsure of what he wanted from the kitchen. He decided on a glass of water.

Dean went to the top cabinet for a glass when he heard the television in the living room.

With a deepening and suspicious frown, Dean followed the noise and left the glass behind on the counter.

* * *

Walking in the darkness, Dean stopped at the entrance of the living room to see a familiar petite shadowed figure standing in front of the television.

A strange feeling ripped through Dean's body. He's brows pinched together finding something in the air very strange. "Buffy?" He said her name softly, careful not to startle her.

Buffy stood with her back facing Dean staring down at the white-snow television screen in front of her. She did not move a muscle.

Dean looked over to a lamp on the end-table and turned it on. A yellow dim light illuminated the room. "Buf? You okay, baby?" Dean asked her again.

Slowly, Buffy faced Dean. The serene expression on her face did not sit well with him. He immediately felt something wasn't right. There was a weight in the room; making it cold and unwelcoming.

The feeling of uneasiness pressed down on Dean the longer he stared at his wife. She didn't move or speak. She appeared perfectly normal, except Dean had experience with normal but the rotten feeling he had in the pit of his stomach signalled to Dean that Buffy was not acting normal.

"Hey, are you okay? Talk to me." Dean urged her taking a step cautious closer. He silently swore to himself that he didn't have a gun on him. Dean couldn't see it but there was a darkness in the room with them. A darkness he's never seen before, not even in purgatory.

Buffy began to move from the static television, slowly stepping towards Dean then stopped abruptly. She stood at the halfway mark in front of Dean. She slowly swayed side to side and stared at Dean with blank and deathly terrifying eyes.

"From beneath you, it devours." Buffy finally said in an unsettling whispering voice.

Dean stared at her chilled to the bone. He had no idea what that meant but it did not sound good or from this earth.

"From beneath…?" Dean tried to piece together.

Buffy serene expression began to twist. She slowly smiled. Her smile stretched wider and wider until it became inhumanly grotesque. Dean felt his heart pound in his chest terrified for his wife. He started towards her when Buffy's demonic grin engulfed her entire face and swallowed the rest of her body in an instant.

With a horrified panic, Dean looked around himself for Buffy or the _thing_ that had possessed her. "Buffy?"

He stood alone in the dim-lit living room with the television now off. _Fuck!_

Terrified, Dean sprinted back up the stairs and ran down the hallway, waking up Sam from his slumber. Sam opened the door of the guest room just as Dean whizzed past him.

Dean stood the closed door of the master bedroom with his hand hovering over the doorknob. He took a deep breath unsure what he was going to find on the other side of the door.

His hand went around the doorknob and twisted it open. Slowly opening the door, Dean stepped into the bedroom to see a feminine figure still asleep under the covers in the large bed undisturbed.

Dean swallowed and ignored the presence of Sam standing behind him. With caution, Dean walked further into the bedroom towards Buffy.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. _She looks real._ Dean cupped his hand against her cheek careful not wake her. _She feels real._ Needing to do a test, Dean leaned forward pressing his mouth against her forehead and whispered, "Cristo."

He drew back his head to see if there was any change in his wife. Buffy leaned into his hand against her face and weaving through her long hair. _Thank god._ Dean felt utter relief that whatever was downstairs in the living room had not actually bothered Buffy or possessed her in any way.

But the question remained, what the hell was that downstairs and what did it mean by saying, 'From beneath you, it devours.' _Could it be a demonic message from the Slayer?_ Dean wondered. _Then why the hell is that bitch using my wife to do its dirty work?_ Dean's worry was now replaced with determined anger. _I'm gonna kill that bitch for using my wife._

He sat up removing his hand from Buffy's cheek and looked back over his shoulder at Sam. They shared a mutual expression instantly reading each other's thoughts. Something very strange was happening in the city and Dean had a terrible feeling about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mid-Morning**

 **Winchester Residence**

"What the hell happened last night?" Sam stood off to the side in the living room watching Dean with a permanent marker in hand drawing the Devil's Trap on the ceiling of the living room. "You didn't say much."

"I don't know." Dean hated the feeling of uncertainty. He honestly had no idea what the hell happened, just _something_ was attacking him by using Buffy. He dropped his arm and looked at Sam, "I wake up around three in the morning. I couldn't go back to sleep so I go downstairs and into the kitchen when I heard the tv. I walk into the living room and Buffy's standing right there," Dean pointed to where Sam stood, "she's just staring at the tv. There was no emotion on her face. She didn't say anything."

Sam looked down at his boots with a frown, "She didn't say anything?"

"Not for a while," Dean continued to draw the thin lines of the Hunter's boobytrap. "But when she did, all she said was, 'from beneath you, it devours' then her face did a 'Blackhole Sun' and poof."

"Poof?"

"Just like that. She disappeared. It was weird." Dean finished up the trap stepped off of the coffee table to take a look at his work. He looked at Sam hoping Buffy wouldn't notice the trap drawn on the ceiling. "I don't know what it was… I think it could've been the Slayer sending me a message. The Slayer knows we're onto it."

Sam shrugged with agreement, "That could be right."

If he was going to be visited again by the demon, he'll be ready. Dean made a mental list to re-salt all of the doorways and windows of the house before Buffy came home.

Dean didn't want to think about how many times he left her alone without salting the doorways and windows of the house. _You've got to get it together._

A hand ran over the back of his neck with a sickening feeling of worry. When she woke up in the morning she seemed completely normal. She never mentioned anything strange happening in the night. In fact, Buffy began her day in her usual routine; she got ready for work, kissed Dean goodbye, and left in a hurry to hit the coffee shop before driving to the Academy.

"You want to check on her?" Sam asked almost reading Dean's worried thoughts.

"She's fine."

Sam eyed his brother knowingly, "C'mon, man, last night really freaked you out. Whatever _it_ was it used Buffy as a vessel. _Your_ Buffy. It's okay to want to check up on her."

Dean stared up at the Devil's Trap and released a deep breath silently agreeing with his younger brother. He was terrified for his wife.

 **Travers Academy**

 **Buffy's Office**

The phone on the desk rang, instantly irritating Buffy, who had been working industriously throughout the morning and mid-afternoon.

She kept her eyes on the papers and cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. "What, Andrew?"

Buffy knew who was on the other end of the line without glancing up at the caller i.d.

Andrew Wells, a former 'supervillain,' a part-time secretary and Watcher for the Slayer Organization, also known as the Watcher's Council, and the younger brother of Tucker was on the other line as Buffy expected.

Andrew grinned into the phone eying the attractive and aggravated looking man standing in front of his desk. "So, this really, super-duper—you might know him as—"

"—Andrew, get to the point," Buffy ordered with minimal patience.

Buffy practically heard Andrew's gleaming grin fall from his face. "Well, fine, Miss Cranky-Pants. Dean is here—"

"—Send him in," Buffy ordered and hung up the phone.

The closed office door opened and Dean stepped inside to see Buffy hard at work behind her desk.

"Dean?" Buffy looked up from the stack of papers for the first time. The frown set across her face shifted. Her stern eyes softened with tenderness. Buffy set aside the pen in hand and eyed her husband carefully, "This is a surprise."

Buffy stood from the chair and moved around the desk towards him. She held her hand against his cheek. The soft smile tugging at her lips fell away noticing the look of worry dancing in his sharp green eyes. "What is it? What's wrong? You look pale."

"It's nothing. I'm just happy to see you, darling." Dean ran his hands down her sides reassuring himself of the reality in front of him.

Shaking her head in protest, Buffy knew there was something really bothering him. "Honey, what is it?"

"Nothing."

"It's 'not nothing'. You have 'something' face. What gives?" She stared carefully into his eyes sensing his worry.

Dean fought the urge to roll his neck in protest to the set 'resolve' expression on her face. "I just had a weird dream last night… a nightmare. That's all." It wasn't a total lie, Dean figured.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you got up in the middle of the night?" Buffy tilted her head slightly to the side in her understanding 'Buffy' way.

"It's nothing… just kind of…"

"Kind of what? You can tell me anything, Dean." The pad of her thumb brushed across his bottom lip.

Dean clenched his jaw deciding to give her the truth… sort of. "I dreamt that I woke up in the middle of the night. I went downstairs and I saw you in the living room… only it wasn't you." Buffy did not respond waiting for him to continue before she passed a judgement. "I don't know what it was it just… it _looked_ like you. Sounded like you. It told me, 'from beneath you, it devours,'" Dean missed the small gasp escaping from her lips. He lifted his eyes to hers.

Buffy kept expression unreadable which did not sit well with Dean. He was usually able to read her like a book.

"Then it disappeared. I woke up only to realize it was a dream and you were beside me the whole time. But I couldn't sleep after that. So I went downstairs to… I don't know, shake it off?"

Buffy swallowed never letting him see her inner thoughts. Her hand went to his stubbled cheek. She stepped towards him and pressed her mouth against his in a gentle, 'I'm still here' kind of kiss that Dean needed desperately.

Dean held her close into his body. His hands ran along her back as his tongue slipped between her lips. Buffy smiled into his kiss and held him closer into her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair.

Slowly, their passionate kiss came to an easy and natural end, "See," Buffy opened her eyes focusing on his, "I'm right here. It was just a dream."

"I really love you," His hand laced through the silky strands of her blonde hair.

Buffy replied with a gentle kiss to his lips and soft half smile.

 **Sometime Later**

 **Giles' Office**

The entire Scoobie Gang stood around the small circle table filled with stacked books of ancient magical forces and demons. Giles had in the middle of cataloging the Watcher's Chronicles when Buffy busted into his office unannounced with a panicked expression written across her features.

"We've got a major problem." Buffy said with her hands on her hips.

Giles immediately called up the rest of the group into his office to hear Buffy out.

Buffy stood at the large window with her hands at her hips, staring down at the Slayer's-In-Training below practicing martial arts moves.

"What's going on, Buf?" Xander asked.

Buffy turned from the window to face the group and said, "I think the First is making a comeback."

The group looked at each other with unease.

"W—what?" Willow stared at her best friend flabbergasted at the thought of facing the First once more. "But I thought…" Willow looked to Xander beside her stunned.

"Start from the beginning, B." Faith folded her arms across her chest.

"Dean was approached by the First last night. It looked like me. He says its a dream but…"

Dawn tucked her brown hair behind the ear and asked, "What if it was a dream?"

Buffy shook her head in disagreement, "Dean wouldn't lie to me. Besides, it couldn't be because I woke up in the middle of the night when he woke up. Dean was awake."

"How do we know it was the First?" Xander looked at the Slayer carefully.

"The First told him, 'from beneath you, it devours'. That's like the First's tagline. There's no way he would've ever heard that before now."

Willow ringed her fingers together and looked at the Vampire Slayer, "So, what now?"

Giles eyed his former charge for a moment. He easily recognized the dread etched in Buffy's features. But it was time to place a bit of pressure on her if the First was honestly coming back for Round 2, Buffy needed to be honest with Dean. It would be the only way he'd survive the impending apocalypse and Buffy knew that too by the look on her face.

"Buffy, its time you were honest with your husband, don't you think?" Giles told her softly, careful not to set her off defensively.

Knowing the truth behind Giles' intentions, Buffy released a heavy breath and shook her head, "I don't know if I can do it, Giles."

Giles eyed the others around him and frowned. He crossed the small distance between himself and Buffy and took her gently by the elbow and guided her across the office to a more private area to talk.

"Buffy, you know as well as I do that leaving Dean in the dark will _only_ harm him… or worse." He told her reasonably. "If he doesn't know about the First or the Bringers or who _you are—_ any of it—"

"—Giles, telling Dean about all of this—About me will only hurt him. How can he look at me afterward without thinking that he's married some crazy-lady? All of this worked for so long because my husband didn't know."

Giles placed his hand on her shoulder, "You _need_ to tell him, Buffy. I know you know that you have to. Give Dean a bit of credit, love." Giles told her softly. "More than ever, this will test your marriage. But you _have_ to give Dean the chance to prove that he trusts you—that he loves you— _Especially_ with this. If the First is targeting Dean then the only way to save him is to tell him the truth."

Buffy hated to admit that Giles was right. He was right from the very beginning and now he was extra, extra right. For five years, Buffy had become an expert of keeping her secret other life hidden better than what she had done with her mother. She didn't leave bloody clothes in the laundry or even keep the Scythe in the house. The weapons she did hide in the house were well kept and she knew Dean would never find them, even when placed in the most obvious spot.

Inhaling a deep breath and releasing it a few seconds later, Buffy nodded her head and reached Giles' eyes with perfect understanding and an equal amount of dread etched into her features. _Crap._ Buffy's frown deepened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Winchester Residence**

"Dean, you gotta slow down, man," Sam said standing in the background in the living room watching Dean. "When you came out of the school, you said, Buffy was totally okay—Normal. What's wrong now?"

"I don't like it, Sammy. I've got this feeling in my gut that's not craving for a burger. Something is after my wife and it's using _my wife._ " Dean checked the rounds loaded into his gun.

The front door opened and closed abruptly pausing the Winchester brothers conversation.

The brothers turned to see Buffy standing in the entryway of the living room with a solemn expression on her beautiful face. Dean recognised that look, something was carrying weight over her.

"Buffy, what are you doing back from work?" Dean asked with instant panic. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Buffy dropped her pocket-book on the floor and unbuttoned her long jacket but did not take it off. She released a heavy breath and slowly started into the living room. "Dean," she began, "I need to talk to you."

Dean eyed her carefully knowing something was very wrong. The uneasy breathless tone of her voice made him very anxious.

Buffy continued to walk further into the living room, "I need to tell you something very important." During the entire car ride back to the house, Buffy tried to come up with different ways to explain her 'other life' but nothing she came up with excused her lies. "I've been keeping something from you and—" She stopped suddenly with a frown. She looked up at Dean with a confused gaze. A strange feeling engulfed her. It made her pause as soon as a buzzing vibration wrapped around her.

Dean and Sam stared at the blonde haired woman in shock. Dean swallowed with dismay and looked up at the trap he had drawn earlier in the day.

"No," Dean whispered with disbelief, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces.

Following his gaze to the ceiling, Buffy frowned but vaguely recognised the makeshift symbol on drawn on the ceiling from one of Giles' books.

"What—" Buffy stuttered with confusion, "What is this? Dean?"

Dean choked back his heartbreak and took out the gun holstered in the back of his jeans. "Sam, get the Colt from the trunk of the car." He ordered. Sam carefully moved around Buffy and raced out of the house to the Impala, parked in the driveway.

Buffy lifted her eyes to Dean to see a barrel of a gun aimed between her eyes. "It's called, a Devil's Trap. It's used to trap demons." Dean quietly explained, desperately trying to keep the emotion from his voice. _She's a demon._

Buffy's lips parted to protest, "Dean, I'm not a—"

"—Hello again, Buffy."

The Vampire Slayer spun around, still in the Devil's Trap to see the First. A sinister looking Buffy stood in the entryway of the living room wearing a haunting soft smile across her face.

 _What the fuck?_ Dean's eyes tossed between his wife stuck in the trap and the demon that looked just like his wife. _Okay, now I'm really confused._ He kept his aim steady on the demon in the trap and the demon standing in the background.

"Trying to make a comeback?" Buffy taunted unafraid of the First. "That's a bit cliché, don't cha think?"

Buffy/First slowly entered the living room with its arms across its chest. "I've had similar thoughts but… I promise _this_ comeback won't be a trashy attempt at relevance."

Insulted by the comment, Buffy's face twisted with disbelief and defensive anger, "Leave Britney alone!" She forcefully commanded.

Despite this confused state, Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes at his wife's comment. Even stuck in a Devil's Trap, the demon disguised as his wife still _acted_ like his Buffy. "Her music sucks—" Dean heard himself say aloud as he remembered all the times Buffy had forced him to listen to the Princess of Pop in his car. He swore to die with that secret.

Twisting around like whiplash to him. Buffy glared taking offence, " _No—_ Its _fun._ "

"It's _only_ fun when it brings out your inner stripper, Princess." Dean wagged his brows and tossed her a sarcastic wink. "Gimme more, Dean! Gimme more!" Dean mocked her with a high-pitched voice.

"Oh, puh-lease." Buffy glared at him with her hands firmly on her hips. "Need I remind you of the time you stripped to the slave song?" She narrowly eyed him unthreatened by his glaring eyes and flaring nostrils.

"That was for your birthday, dammit." Dean fumed.

Buffy/First rolled its eyes at the bickering banter. "Eh-hem." Buffy and Dean turned their attention back to the First, still standing before them looking very impatient. "Who's this _Buff-ee_?" Buffy/First moved around the Devil's Trap towards Dean with a seductive smile, Buffy/First said, "I do like this new fresh meat." The First rolled its eyes over Dean.

Dean's grip tightened around the gun. _Where the fuck are you, Sam?_

"Stay from him." Buffy glared at the demonic force with hatred.

The First faced the Slayer trapped and tilted its head to the side unthreatened. "Make me, Slayer."

Dean's eyes snapped to Buffy in shock. She was not just a demon trapped in the Devil's Trap but she was the demon he's been tracking for years. His wife, the love of his life, the woman he gave his entire heart to is the _Slayer_. Now, even more so than before, Dean felt his already shattered heart breaking into a million more pieces by the heel of Buffy's boot. "Slayer?" He found his voice.

Buffy did not hear his whispering voice keeping her attention on the First still taunting her. "I've defeated you before." Buffy shrugged unthreatened, "It wasn't _too_ hard."

"That's the thing about 'comebacks'… the 'defeated' always comes back stronger."

"Get the hell _out of my house,_ " Buffy ordered through gritted teeth.

"Until we meet again, Slayer." The First disappeared from the living room leaving Buffy and Dean for the first time alone.

Buffy took a deep breath calming her anger when she looked at Dean, the barrel of his gun was once again aimed at her forehead.

Sam ran back into the house holding the Colt in hand.

"Dean, please, just let me explain," Buffy told him calmly.

Dean shook his head feeling utterly disgusted with himself. For five years, he loved a demon, the Slayer. "Nothing you say will save you, _Slayer_." Dean's voice was barely above a whisper but it was filled with hate.

"No, Dean, honey, you don't understand—" Buffy held her hands up showing her innocence, that she would not harm him.

"— _Shut up!_ " Dean yelled. "I understand perfectly, _Demon!_ "

Buffy's beautiful face sunk as if she had been sucker punched in the gut. The air in her lungs escaped. All she could do was stand there numbly unable to think or breathe. The stake impaled into her heart felt like it was being twisted.

"I am _not_ a demon," Buffy said unable to trust her own voice.

"You sure as hell ain't human," Dean ran his eyes over her.

Shaking her head, Buffy felt the world she tried to keep together for so long fall down around her. The hate and unrelenting anger in his eyes tore her to pieces. "I'm not a demon." She told him again, trying to keep her voice even and confident. "Please, just let me—"

Sam turned his eyes from Dean to the back of Buffy's head. He raised the gun, cocked back the hammer and aimed it at Buffy from behind, following his brother's lead.

Hearing the soft click, Buffy faced Sam, glaring down the barrel aimed at her head. With impatience for the guns aimed at her, Buffy stepped out of the Devil's Trap without hesitation and grabbed Sam by his wrist. She squeezed her grip, facing him to drop the Colt to the ground. She wrapped her other hand around his neck and tossed him across the house. He landed in the dining room, banging his back against the wall. Plates, set aside for company and expensive wine glasses crashed to the ground when Sam landed with a thud.

Buffy whirled back around to Dean. He was now holding the Colt ready to fire. Keeping her hands up to him, Buffy's aggravated expression softened, "Dean, please, let me explain…" A sudden realization came upon her. She lifted her eyes to his and frowned, "You know about all of this?"

Dean did not reply.

"About demons and Slayers…?" Her brows pinched together thoughtfully. "What are you? A hunter?" Buffy easily pieced together. "Makes sense…" She has run-in's with a Demon Hunter a time or two during her long years as a Vampire Slayer. Her and Hunters oddly have never gotten along. "Drop the gun, Dean." She kept her voice even and unthreatening.

"Like hell, I will." Dean bitterly spatted. "I just saw what you did to Sammy, _Slayer._ I'm gonna put a bullet between your—"

With lightning speed, Dean had never seen before. Buffy forced the gun away from her and Dean's back pinned against the wall.

They glared at each other for a long moment, regaining their breaths. Buffy swallowed and dropped her hands holding him restrained and took a step back finding her composure.

"We don't have time for this." Buffy shook her head knowing if the First was really working for a comeback, it'll be ready with Bringers and other nasties built to piss the Slayer off. She turned away from Dean towards the wooden chest near the coffee table containing blankets and pillows.

Dean lowered his hand holding the Colt and watched her. She didn't try to kill him. _She's not your wife. She's a demon—the Slayer._ He reminded himself.

Buffy opened the chest lid and removed the contents placed in the hidden compartment. She stood taking out an axe and a very sharp dagger.

With a deepening frown, Dean cautiously stepped towards her. He peered over her shoulder down to the chest and was shocked to see what was inside. _What the hell?_ Underneath the blankets and throw pillows was a weapons armoury to equip an entire army.

Buffy stood straight at looked at his estranged husband, "We have to leave. This house is not safe right now."

Dean lifted his arm holding the Colt back at Buffy and sneered, "I'm not going anywhere with you, Hell-bitch."

Unable to hide the hurt from his hateful words from her expression, Buffy pushed onward unable to sort all of this out right at the moment. "Be pissed at me all you want, Dean, but the First will come back and it _will_ bring friends." She started towards the door. "Now, get your brother and get your stubborn ass into the Impala _now_." She forcefully put her foot down. "We don't have time to sort all of this out at the moment. We need to get to the Academy."

"The Academy?" Dean followed her and watched her open the door and step right over the line of salt guarding the threshold.

Buffy paused mid-step as she neared the Impala and faced him, "I will explain everything, I swear, but now we need to act fast. We _have_ to leave."

Against his better judgement, Dean holstered the Colt back into jeans and went into the dining room for Sam, who was still knocked out. He dragged his brother across the floor and followed Buffy into the Impala.


	10. Chapter 10

**1967 Chevrolet Impala**

A majority of the tense twenty-five-minute drive to the Academy kept in silence.

Dean kept his eyes firmly on the road with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding the Colt, aimed at Buffy calmly sitting beside him. Her eyes were out the passenger's side window unthreatened by the gun aimed at her. She glanced over her shoulder to the back seat to Sam, still sprawled across the seat passed out.

A touch of guilt clenched at her heart as she studied her brother-in-law. "I didn't mean to knock him out." She muttered with guilt.

"You're Evil, what do you care?" Dean angrily clenched his jaw still stunned, hurt, and pissed off that he had been played by the Slayer. _Bitch._ He inwardly grumbled.

Buffy shifted her eyes to his face. Despite his apparent anger and the tension in his body, her heart still pounded with love for him. "I'm not Evil, Dean."

"You're a demon."

"No," she shook her head, "I'm not a demon. I'm human." Nervously, she rubbed her hands together then began to toy with the rings sitting on her left hand, "Do you know what a Slayer is?" Her green eyes studied him carefully.

Dean was not naive. He's been at this 'supernatural' game for a long, long time. He's seen and done things that were unimaginable. So when Buffy asked that question, Dean felt more than confident and accurate in his response. "An Evil demon working for Lucifer. Because of you, a 'Hellmouth' swallowed a town filled with innocent souls. You're an agent of Hell."

Buffy released a heavy breath, "No, I'm not an agent of Hell. I'm not working for Lucifer. But you're not… _totally_ wrong about something…" She watched his jaw clench. "I did 'cause the Hellmouth to swallow Sunnydale—Well, actually Spike—"

"—Spike?" Dean tore his eyes from the road for the first time and glared at his estranged wife. He knew Spike. He hated Spike. Dean also hated that other guy that made moon-eyes at his wife whenever he came around. That douche-bag always looked like a kicked puppy, Dean wanted to punch that brooding pout right off of his face. "What the hell does _Spike_ have to do with anything?"

 _This is going to take a while._ Buffy determined, "I gave him an amulet and that amulet destroyed the Hellmouth… so _technically_ , Spike destroyed the town. If it helps at all, I had everyone living in Sunnydale evacuate. It wasn't hard. The town was weird but it got terrifyingly weird. Everyone left on their own accord."

"Still doesn't make you anything less than a demon." Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white.

"You're right, a Slayer is made from the essence of a demon." Buffy looked down at hands. "A Slayer is made from black magic—very dangerous magic. But I'm not Evil, Dean. A Slayer doesn't 'work' for Evil. It defeats it." She lifted her eyes to him. " _I_ defeat it."

The tension in Dean's shoulder's slightly softened, he turned his eyes again from the road to look at Buffy. He swallowed and pulled over the Impala on the side of the road ready to hear her out.

Buffy watched as he put his beloved car in park. He sat back in his seat, staring out the windshield and the gun still aimed at her.

"Why a Hellmouth?" Dean asked quietly without looking at her. If he had to kill her, he could not look at her. Despite his hatred and anger, he still loved his wife with his entire heart.

"A Slayer is drawn to the energy—just like everything supernatural, Good and Evil." She kept her voice, almost whispering. Buffy had tried to prepare herself for this exact moment. She rehearsed what she'd say to try to make him understand but everything she's practised had suddenly escaped her mind. Buffy took a deep breath and decided to just... wing it and said, "When I was fifteen and my parents were still married, I was living in Los Angeles, I was called."

Dean stern expression shifted with confusion. "Called?" His eyes glanced in her direction then back straight in front of him. "What does that mean?"

"A Slayer is destined—chosen. I didn't know it was going to happen. I never heard of Slayers or Hellmouth's…. I thought vampires and demons were just cheap horror movie monsters... I didn't have a choice in this."

Dean swallowed but did not respond.

Buffy looked at him meaningfully. " _I_ was chosen to be the next Slayer. I didn't want it. I liked my life as it was… I had friends, I was popular, my biggest worry was if Tyler would ask me out to Homecoming." She watched his expression which did not change. "After that day—the chosen day, I quickly learned what was really out there. The fate of the world was now on a fifteen-year-old's shoulders—my shoulders. You hunters… hunt demons, but you don't often come up against forces that will destroy _everything._ "

Dean's frown deepened. Buffy could see the wheels in his mind turn. Before he could dispute her, she continued, "It's my job to stop _every_ apocalypse—to keep this world spinning." Buffy nervously began to twist the rings on her finger again. "After mom and dad divorced, me, mom, and Dawn moved to Sunnydale—which happened to be sitting on an unrelenting Hellmouth—Which kept me _very_ occupied." She rolled her eyes the irony of all the events that led up to that moment of moving to Sunnydale—It was all destined.

Shaking his head, Dean opened his mouth, "Still doesn't explain how—"

"—Into every generation, one girl is Chosen," Buffy suddenly broke out into the long creed of the creation of the Vampire Slayer. A creed that had been pounded into her since the moment she was called on the steps of Hemery High.

She looked at Dean hoping that he was slowly understanding where she was now coming from. "I'm not the bad guy, Dean. The 'demon essence' in me, only gives me the strength to fight whatever comes out of that Hellmouth—to _fight_ Evil. When the Slayer was first created, 'hunters' didn't exist." She seemed to have struck a chord with him. "It was just the Slayer."

There was a long silence between them. Buffy felt an aching twist in the pit of her stomach."Why are we going to the Academy?" Dean suddenly asked.

"The Academy isn't really a school." She admitted. "It looks like a school—acts like a school but really, it's a newly renovated Watcher's Council—" Buffy easily saw the next question forming at his lips, she quickly added, "—Which I will explain later, I promise. Myself, Giles, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Faith… all of us, we train new Slayers, witches—"

Dean glared at her, "Slay— _ers_? You just said—"

"—We— _Willow_ did this Goddess-y spell to call all Potential-Slayers in the future to become actual Slayers. It was the only way to—"

"—There's more than one Slayer now?" _Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit._ Dean immediately began to recount the bullets he had in the Colt.

"Well, I'm trying to explain it to you but _you_ keep interrupting me." Buffy was becoming annoyed with his constant stubborn behaviour.

Dean frowned glaring at her, "Don't you start with that shit."

"What shit? Dean, you wanted to know about the Slayer, I'm telling you about the Slayer. It's not my problem that it's not what you wanted to hear. I'm _so sorry_ I just put a dent in your Vampire Slayer killing spree. I'm human, Dean. Just like you—except… I'm a little more upgraded." Her piercing green eyes narrowly glared at him, "And don't you _dare_ sit there and put all of this on me. You're just as guilty as I am. You lied too."

Dean pressed his boot on the brake and fixed the leaver to 'drive'. "Yeah, well, I guess we both fucked this up." He pulled back out onto the road heading towards the Academy.

"Yeah, I guess." Buffy stared out of the passenger's window again with a deepening frown.

They continued the drive in complete silence, keeping their eyes firmly ahead of them, never looking at one another.

Releasing a heavy breath, Buffy looked back at her husband and said, "I'm still me, Dean. The 'superpowers' I have, doesn't change the fact that I married you because I fell in love with you. Nor does it change anything that we've ever talked about for our future. I _want_ all of those things we've ever talked about with _you—_ only with you. Being a Slayer… it's apart of me. But it doesn't… change me just because you found out about it. I was always the Slayer but I'm still _me_. I'm still your girl." She looked at him with hopefulness which quickly melted to disappointment when Dean did respond.

He narrowed his eyes into the distance refusing to acknowledge Buffy. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and pressed harder onto the gas peddle. There was a lot to work out but right now, Dean was just going to be pissed.


	11. Chapter 11

**2005**

 **Buffy's Apartment**

Clothing sprawled across the bedroom floor. Blankets from the bed wrinkled in disarray. Pillows were thrown across the room, knocking over lampshades.

Laying on the floor beside the bed, Dean happily grinned like a schoolboy as Buffy moved up the length of his lean body, brushing the strands of her free-flowing hair over his chest. He opened his eyes, pressing his hand against her cheek. She matched his happy grin and kissed his mouth fully.

"I think we've got this 'married thing' down," Buffy grinned, pressing her lips against his chest and rested her chin on his chest.

Dean laced his fingers through her and kissed the palm of her hand. "If 'married' means awesome sex then, hell yeah we're awesome at this 'married thing'." His body ached in all of the right places. He did not expect that his new wife had the endurance of twenty racing horses but he was definitely not complaining.

She kissed the centre of his chest and looked at him from under her long lashes. "Doesn't even matter that we've only been married for…" she lifted his wrist wearing a watch, "… six hours."

Pushing her long hair from her beautiful face, Dean smiled and caught her lips in a loving kiss. "Me and you… we're gonna be good."

"More than good," Buffy caressed his stubbled cheek with the back of her fingers. "We're going to last."

Dean lifted his head slightly from the floor and brushed his lips over hers. He let his fingers tangle into her hair and his tongue slide across her lips. He loved kissing her. He could kiss her for every hour of every day for the rest of this life. _Perfect reason to marry her._ Dean grinned against her mouth covering his.

Slowly, Dean broke the kiss and opened his eyes to see her tenderly staring back at him. "You're my girl, right?"

"I guess so…" Buffy said with a playful shrug, fighting the smile forming across her face. "There's no turning back now, Winchester, you're stuck with me," Dean to chuckles holding his arms tighter around her body.

"Bummer," Dean teased brushing his nose against hers.

Buffy moved into his kiss and shifted his body to straddle him. Dean's hands slid from her hair and down her sides until resting on her thighs to help guide her over him.

 **2010**

 **Travers Academy**

 **Grand Library**

The large gothic styled library was filled with a thick tension. The Scoobie gang sat around the long table, careful not to invade the Winchester brother's space. They were on edge and glaring daggers at Buffy.

Dean's upper lip curled with detest as he scowled at his estranged wife. Buffy sat across of from him her legs crossed and her arms folded across her chest but her attention was on Giles, who had been explaining the origin of the Vampire Slayer and the First to the brothers. Dean heard none of it. Though he was beginning to slowly accept that the Slayer did not equate demon, he was mad as hell at his _wife_ for lying to him for so long. He was so angry at her that he neglected to put any blame on himself for doing the same.

"What the hell was in my house?" Dean finally tore his eyes from Buffy to the Watcher.

"That was the First," Buffy told him with irritation. She rolled her eyes at his confused expression. "And you didn't hear a _thing_ Giles had just said, did you?" Dean's scowl deepened. He always hated that, 'I'm losing my patience with you' pursed lips expression his wife frequently tossed at him whenever she was thoroughly annoyed. "Maybe if you'd stopped _glaring_ at me—trying to make me feel like I'm the only one who's messed up here and start paying attention to what's going on, you'd know who—or _what_ invaded our house."

Dean's eyes shifted to Sam for a moment, he shrugged unable to dispute Buffy's bitter remarks. Rolling his eyes with annoyance, Dean unholstered the Colt from his belt and placed it on top of the desk taunting the Slayer. He tilted his head slightly to the side and sat back in the chair folding his arms across his chest. "Fine. I'm listening. Tell me about the demon that was in _my_ house that _I_ pay for." His glaring green eyes were steadily on Buffy.

Giles saw Buffy was on the borderline of an eruption. He swiftly cut in and said, "It's called, the First."

With a frown, Dean's eyes went to Giles. His brows furrowed together with confusion and slight amusement. "The First? Threatening name—really strikes the fear."

Buffy tried desperately to suppress her smile that was beginning to form across her mouth. _You're mad at Dean._ She reminded herself. _Stay mad at Dean. He's a bonehead. A stupid and gorgeous bonehead—but a bonehead nonetheless._

"Is there any books on it?" Sam asked.

"Very little information, unfortunately," Giles began to explain, "the First predates written history."

Dean turned his eyes from Giles to Buffy then back to the former-Watcher. "The First talked to Buffy like it knew her. Why?"

Giles looked to Buffy to answer this question. Buffy twisted the rings on her finger and said, "Because this isn't the first time we've fought the First. That was reason Sunnydale caved—"

"—But you said, Spike was the reason—"

"—Because _I_ gave him an amulet that would defeat the First, thus the Hellmouth that we were—"

"—Still doesn't make sense—"

Buffy released a frustrated breath, "— _Stop_ interrupting me and _listen_ to what I'm telling you!"

The Scoobies, including Sam, awkwardly pushed back their chairs from the table wanting to get out of firing range of the disputing spouses.

"The First is the really the _First Evil_." Buffy saw Dean open his mouth to once again interrupt her but she quickly continued, " _Which means_ , the First is the reason _Evil_ exists."

Dean sat silently in his chair. The room quietly watched the wheels crank in his mind as he tried to process all of the information about Slayers and the First. He's been a demon hunter for most of his life but _this_ was a whole new territory.

Releasing a deep breath, Dean lifted his eyes to her. Buffy glared at him with a smouldering scowl. He tried to ignore his pressure of all his blood shooting south. _Now is not the time to be having sexy daydreams about your gorgeous and possibly Evil wife._ He scolded himself.

With the calmest yet restrained voice he could possibly muster, Dean, said, " _Sweetheart_ , I hear what you're saying, but _I,_ " Dean gestured to himself, "don't understand a fucking thing you just said to me."

Buffy closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead trying so desperately hard not to crack and flip the table with utter annoyance. _He's going to be the death of me._


	12. Chapter 12

**Travers Academy**

 **Grand Library**

Buffy took a deep calming breath, finding her centre once again. She leaned elbows on the table looking at Dean straight in the eyes and said, "The First is _not_ a demon. You can't fight it—"

"—But you just—"

Buffy held up her hand too quickly shut him down as she continued, "—I know what I said. The First is the _absolute_ embodiment of all Evil. The Hellmouth's, demons… Lucifer… The First is the reason that all exists. It's more than 'just a demon'." She repeated, eying him carefully to see if he was understanding her. Dean did not respond. "Back in Sunnydale, the First tried to destroy the Slayer-line because if you remove the Slayer…"

"… Evil unleashes Hell on earth." Sam pieced together.

Buffy nodded and continued, "It had its 'Evil Agents' called, the Bringers to kill all Potential-Slayers—"

"—Slayer's in waiting?" Sam asked.

"Right," Buffy said with restrained patience. "Its plan was to kill all of the Potential-Slayers that were next in line, then Faith and then me—Completely destroying the Vampire Slayer lineage."

"O—kay," Dean said leaning forward like Buffy and looked up from his hands to her face. "You said—or someone said," he looked around the room before his sights landed on Giles, "that only one Slayer existed at a time. Right?"

"Well—" Buffy began but was quickly interrupted by Dean.

"— _Right_." Dean continued, "But then _you_ said, _all_ of those 'Potential-Slayers' are now 'active-Slayers' but were _you_ ," Dean pointed at Faith leaning against the books-stacks looking bored out of her mind, "also 'activated' during this Willow spell?—'Cause _you_ ," Dean turned his index finger at Buffy, "said those 'Potential-Slayers' were 'Slayer-fied' after _you,_ " Dean pointed at Willow sitting beside Buffy, Xander, and Dawn, "did some spell-thing to make 'em Slayers."

Buffy worked out his thought process in her mind and shrugged, "Pretty much—except, Faith's been a Slayer for a while now."

"How can that be?" Sam asked looking around the table for a response when his eyes went back to Buffy. "The lore is that only _one_ Slayer exists at a time."

"That's the old tradition," Buffy began. "When a Slayer dies another one is called—" She quickly realized what she had just said and by Dean's surprised expression, catching her slip up. _Dammit._ Buffy cursed.

"Died?" Dean jumped up to his feet and leaned over the table on his fists, " _Died_?" He glared at his wife. "You _died_?" His mind was working overtime. "When the hell did you die?" Dean didn't know whether to yell, throw things, or crawl to Buffy on his hands and knees and protect her from all of the Evil in the world.

"It was just those two times," Buffy shrugged as if it were not a big deal.

"Twi—?" He stood speechless. "Come with me." Dean kicked the chair further back and moved around the table taking Buffy by her forearm.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"I need to talk to you dammit," Dean said through gritted teeth. "Sam, find out about the First!" Dean ordered never turning back to address Sam. He pushed open the double doors, still dragging Buffy by her arm heading towards her office.

 **Buffy's Office**

"Dean, let go of me!" She demanded furiously over his patronizing display.

Dean forcefully removed his hand and slammed the office door closed, rattling the picture frames on the walls.

Buffy glared at her husband's back not saying a word. She watched as he leaned against the door on his forearms breathing heavily trying to control his anger and the tear in his heart. She jumped a bit startled when he pounded his fists against the wooden frame of the door.

Coming to grips with his emotions, Dean slowly faced her and lifted his eyes to hers, "You died… _twice_?"

"Yes," Buffy hated the pain that was set in his eyes.

"What happened?"

Buffy released a soft breath and said, "The first time was because of a prophesy—A vampire called, the Master needed my blood to release himself from a prison-church-Hell-place. He dropped me into a puddle and I… sort of drowned. Xander brought me back with CPR. I was only dead for a minute— _less_ than a minute."

"But it was enough. How about the second time? Was that less than a minute too?" His glare narrowed on her face.

Dean swallowed noticing her solemn expression. Easily, he could see the pain in her beautiful green eyes. He knew without her saying a word that this death was much worse.

"A bit longer than a minute…" she finally said in a quiet voice. "I… had to save Dawn."

"Explain," Dean demanded, holding his hands on his hips.

Buffy turned away from him for a moment and sat down on the couch against the wall. "Dawn was a Key—which meant her blood could be used to unlock Hell dimensions—"

"—Dimensions aren't real," Dean said almost too automatically.

"Please, stop disagreeing with me," Buffy defeatedly sighed, exhausted with the on-going battle of words. Dean closed his mouth and stayed quiet wanting her to continue. " _Glory_ was a God from Hell. She had been kicked out from her own _dimension_. She wanted to drain Dawn's blood to open up a portal gate which led back to her home… and since Dawn and I are sisters…"

"… You share the same blood." Dean finished her thought.

Buffy nodded. "If I had let the portal open, the world would've been sucked into some Hell and there would be no way out. So I took Dawn's place and jumped into the portal—closing it for good. It was the only way."

Dean ran his eyes over her trying to picture a world without his beautiful wife in it. "How were you brought back?"

"Willow. She did a spell—"

"—That figures…" Dean rolled his eyes unsure how much he could now trust his wife's best friend now understanding that she was a powerful witch. "I have a confession to make,"

Buffy looked at him patiently.

"I died too." He watched her expression warp with dismay and shock. "I also…" his words trailed off, "... I had to save Sam. I made a deal with a demon and it sent me to Purgatory."

"What brought you back?"

"An angel," A part of him was surprised by the unsurprised expression written across her features. "I was so fucked up for a long time. And then I met you," his eyes travelled around her face. "I never thought I could be happy again. I never thought I could… get over it—the nightmares, that emotionless rut that I was stuck in… I couldn't—"

Buffy stood from the couch and crossed the room back to him, holding her hand against his cheek. "I know how that feels. That numbness… the constant pain… the memories."

Leaning into her touch, Dean opened his eyes to her face, "Were you there too?"

"No," Buffy quietly shook her head, "I was someplace different."

Dean stepped towards her and reach out his hands. His fingers gripped her upper arms. Releasing the anguish pent up inside of him; finally feeling a relief of revealing his double life, the heartache to know that Buffy had suffered just as much as he did living in the same double life. The anger he felt for this entire misunderstanding, the confusion he still had over Slayer and the First. His regret of aiming a gun at her. Needing that feeling of stability, Dean pressed his forehead against hers.

Buffy's hands went around his face then slowly travelled to settle on his chest.

Swallowing his heartache, Dean lifted his head to look at her, "Why does the First look like you?"

"The First can't touch," Buffy opened her eyes to his. "It can only take form as any person who's died."

With understanding, Dean slowly nodded his head, "Tricky." He tried a smile but it never reached his eyes. "When you said your past was complicated… you weren't kidding."

Buffy tearfully bit a soft laugh just happy Dean wasn't as livid anymore. She cupped her hand around the back of his neck and drew herself closer to him.

"Okay," Dean drew back his head to look down at her fully, "so you're the Slayer—a good guy—you've got superpowers like _Wonder Woman_."

"Minus the outfit… but yeah, pretty much."

Buffy immediately recognized that mischievous spark in his eyes when he looked at her, "The outfit is up for discussion." Dean told her pointedly not leaving any room for an actual discussion.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy released a soft breath, "Says the one who doesn't have to wear it."

Dean's hand rested on her lower back looking meaningfully into her eyes, "For now on, we tell each other everything—No more secrets. I don't think we'd survive if _this_ ever happened again."

"No more secrets," Buffy agreed.

"I mean it," Dean told her pointedly, " _zero_ secrets. So if there are any figurative skeletons in your closet, now is the time to share it with the class. We tell each other everything."

He had a sinking feeling in his gut the moment her eyes dropped to her shoes and her hands fell from around his neck. Dean knew her well, and when she chewed on her bottom lip and began to twist the ring set on her finger, Dean knew she was feeling guilty and nervous about something.

"What?" Dean took a deep breath, "What is it?" He did not fully expect her to have anything else hidden.

"It—it's nothing _really_." Buffy began to nervously stutter not convincing him otherwise.

" _What_?"

Buffy winced and said, "It—it's about Angel and Spike…" she watched his expression darkened.

"What about 'em?" Dean asked narrowing his eyes over her. Per the usual, Dean hated every man who ever looked in his wife's direction. But he especially hated his wife's _ex's_ wandering eyes.

"Well… they're, uh, not exactly, um… human…"

"I don't wanna know." Dean shook his head, shutting her up quickly.

Buffy frowned, "But you just said—"

"— _No_ , don't tell me." He took her hand from her side and placed his other hand on top of hers. "Tell me later."

"—But—"

"—Shh—Shh—" Dean held his index finger against her lips hushing her. "Tell me later." He took a step closer, wrapping his free hand tighter around her waist and dipped his head down, capturing her mouth.

Buffy instantly fell into his hard kiss. Her fingers buried into his short hair. Without hesitation, Buffy parted her lips, letting his mouth enter to deepen the kiss.

Teetering off balance, Dean took a step with Buffy still held tightly in his arms. He crushed her back against the wall, rattling the photographs. A fallen photo frame that smashed onto the floor went ignored.

Dean's hands went down the sides of her body to her backside.

Needing air, they broke apart and panted. Buffy lifted her eyes to his. Dean smirked, masking his pleasant surprise to see a wild, almost animalistic gleam in her green eyes. He was taken by surprise when Buffy suddenly turned him, pinning him against the wall. His eyes were wide looking down at her shocked and completely turned on by the sheer strength simmering in her petite body. He could feel her power radiating from her skin; It was raw and primal.

Buffy's hands slid up his muscular chest to push off the worn leather jacket over an open button-down shirt over his shoulders. Dean happily obliged in her demand. Her fingers then found the hem of his henley shirt and lifted it up muscular chest until it was over his head.

Clenching his jaw feeling all of the blood go south. Dean's skin tingled as Buffy placed hot open mouthed kisses along his chest.

Dean wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her slightly off of the floor to turn towards the leather couch beside them. He laid her onto her back and positioned himself between her legs. With his hands, he pushed up the hem of her long skirt up her legs as she unfastened the buttons of his jeans. Dean leant forward, hovering over her body still removing the article of clothing standing in their way. His mouth was over hers muffling her moans.

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